New Kid Stories S1-E8: End Of The Line
by JustCallMeButtLord
Summary: The New Kid and her friends face down the consequences of having multiple versions of themselves looped back into the same timeline, all while her eldest version takes control of South Park to rebuild a forgotten government lab. SEASON ONE FINALE OF NKS! [Eighth installment of the New Kid Series. Rate M for language, vulgar descriptions. Cis!Female New Kid x Kenny, Stendy.]
1. Ringing In The Ears

_HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FANFICTION!_

Welcome, welcome, welcome, _one and all, _to the SEASON FINALIE of the New Kid Stories! WE ACTUALLY MADE IT!

Before we get started with all the usual BS, I just wanted to _thank everyone who has been reading, reviewing, engaging with the Tumblr, and have joined the NKS Discord. _Y'all have made this project possible by helping keep my enthusiasm up and reminding me every day that I have readers who are here for this story and wanted to see where I was taking it. I want to thank all of you, whether you've been with us from the beginning, or just joined in a week ago. Hell! If you're reading this after the fact and this story is already done, your support is still dearly appreciated. My love of telling stories would wilt if I lacked an audience who loved to hear them.

_WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY, _let's get into the usual disclaimers.

_**The New Kid Stories [NKS] are my just-for-fun project I write when I have the time and drive.**_ As such, I do not concern myself heavily with the editing process [most chapters get a skim in the doc manager before they're published], and typos do slip through the cracks. _I welcome being notified of errors, provided you can do so in a respectful manner _[I.E. don't cuss out the author for a story you're getting for free. Yes, it has happened, multiple times]. You can notify me of typos via reviews, PM, or sending an Ask to the JustCallMeButtlord Tumblr page.

_**NKS is canon Divergent **_due to the fact that I started writing the stories two years ago, back when the most I knew of the series was the games and a smattering of episodes I'd seen as a kid/teen. While I am current now, South Park is still very much making new episodes, and I _will not be bending over backwards to make my work adhere to the canon because that's stressful and stupid. **This is the just for funsies corner, not the 'I'm gonna kill myself over the canon material's new additions' corner. **_The narrative might occasionally poke fun at this, though... :3

_**NKS is written episodically, **_and this is usually where I'd reassure a new reader who clicked on a fic with a number in the title that they can still read it without consuming previous material but... well, _this is the finale. _While 1-5 could all arguably be read in a vacuum and still be satisfying, and 6 could _probably _be enjoyed by an outsider with only mild confusion as to what the fuck is going on... 7 and 8 here are ALL ABOUT paying off little details I've seeded into the previous stories, wrapping up the long game I've been playing in the background of the entire series so far. Reading this story first, on it's own, while I hope I'm competent enough as an author that it would be an _enjoyable _experience, may not be as _satisfying _without all the careful buildup that's come before. It's sorta like reading the last chapter first. You can do it, I can't stop you, and that's your choice, and I'll do my best to pen a story that still makes sense to an outsider, _**but... **_why do that when all the stories thus far are just a click over to my profile page away, eh? _Eh?_

Alright my friends. Are we buckled in and ready to get this roller-coaster ride going again?

_ON  
__WITH  
__THE  
__FIC_

_O**WTF!**_

**::End Of The Line – Ringing In The Ears::**

Wendy was home sick from school, but she wasn't resting... despite the fact that she very _much _wished she could just relax and go to sleep. Sleep, however, would be a waste of time and talent; the team needed her right now. _More than ever, _possibly, as Mysterion and Buttlord caught up with a predestination paradox that set the stage for today as a whole.

She'd known today was the day when she'd gotten a text from Kyle, requesting a way to get Kenny and Dee out of school and back to town just a little bit before 8:00 AM. It was something she'd been preparing since Saturday... when Buttlord, Dee's masked alter ego, had arrived in her room in the middle of the night and warned her that they'd need a very specific out in the future.

Life was interesting when one of your friends could fart hard enough to rip time and space.

Saturday night had contained a number of revelations, all of which took Wendy's near _obsessive _need to be prepared and gave her a thousand new scenarios to theorize about, attempting to furnish counter-strategies to them... while also consuming enough tea with honey and lemon to embarrass the entire nation of England. Even with her brain slagged down in congestive and lethargic hell, she was fairly certain she'd managed to cover a number of bases... _just not all of them._

_Was it even possible to cover all of them? _Not in her current state, probably. Her parents had curtailed her movements multiple times; the one-two combo of being both _grounded _and _sick _being enough to confine her to the house and limit her to activities that could be preformed from a _seated _position. They, of course, expected her to _sleep... _and she feigned compliance by spending the majority of her time in her room; thus, she was limited to things that could only be done from her computer.

Not that was a particular disadvantage. Entrenched in a pile of blankets, cellphone within reach, she could do a great deal from her computer desk. The big question was... _would it be enough for whatever was coming? _

As if to respond to her stray thought, her phone buzzed against pillow currently across her lap as a platform for her to lean her elbows on while slouched forward in her computer chair. Picking it up, she saw she had a text- a message from Stan.

She smiled faintly. Stan had been a sweetheart on Sunday; finding the time after all the commotion _and _getting chewed out by his family to come over and beg her parents to see her. They didn't want to let him in, of course, what with her being _grounded for staying out too late with him, _but Stan was a pretty hard guy to say no to once he turned on the _puppy dog eyes. _Nearly losing a bunch of friends in a freak pizzeria fire also won some sympathy points, and eventually her parents had caved.

Perhaps conforming to the adage 'no good deed goes unpunished,' Stan was _also _too sick to go to school this morning. He'd caught whatever virus she was fighting... but she was thankful all the same. His coming by had helped her with a task she might not have been able to complete herself.

He'd also gotten her to unwind enough to get some rest last night, which had ended up being key this morning- if she'd stayed on all Sunday night, she might not have been awake to get Kyle's message.

[Received, 10:56] the bomb threats on the news, u made that legit huh?

Wendy felt her eyebrows arch slightly.

[Sent, 10:57] You're watching the news? Shouldn't you be... sleeping?

Hypocritical, but his usefulness to the group during crisis usually required him to be in good health. Not to mention she felt a touch guilty for him getting sick, even though he was the one who visited her.

[Received, 10:57] camped out on the couch  
[Received, 10:58] mom left the tv on for me when she left for work  
[Received, 10:58] figured id keep up  
[Received, 10:58] plus ur one to talk :P

She snickered faintly, rolling her eyes and leaning back from her computer desk. It nearly felt like her spine was melting back into her chair as she took the stress off, and her eyes felt heavy. Maybe she could take a short break... as certain as she felt that the trouble was coming, that something _big _was about to happen, she had no proof towards that. Just a feeling.

She was about to text Stan back... when she got a message from someone else. The banner popped down from the top of her phone, notifying her she had a message... _from Dee's phone. _Not Dee's Facebook, through which she might have sent messages from a computer, but a multimedia text from Dee's phone number.

Not the weirdest thing on earth... only Wendy knew for a fact that _Dee didn't have her phone anymore. _She'd lost it- the device had gotten left behind in the chaos that had been Sunday afternoon, and probably destroyed by the fire. Even if it wasn't, that specific mobile phone was somewhere in the _wreckage _of that burned out building, and likely inaccessible as long as the police were still doing their arson investigation.

Swiping down on the notification, she tapped on it to hop over to that conversation thread in her message center, checking the message. It appeared to be a short video file, although the preview image was just black. Wendy's phone started downloading the file automatically, and by the time she tapped over it was ready to play. Above the video file, there was a short message:

[Received, 11:00] URGENT

_Strange _was a word for it... but that was par for the course between herself, Dee, and Kenny- and seeing Dee use all-caps was enough to get her heart pumping. Tapping up her volume a few clicks, she hit the play button, assuming an explanation would be forthcoming.

Instead, a piercing sound emitted from her phone's speaker that froze her in her chair.

* * *

"This is _burlshit, _they should just send us home already."

Kyle couldn't help but agree with Cartman, although he was fairly certain they were feeling that way for _very_ different reasons.

Kyle was anxious after what had gone down this morning. At first he'd been thrilled to be part of whatever was going on with Dee and Kenny- two of his friends who were operating as _legit _superheroes with _legit _powers in South Park. _Someone _had stolen Dee's pills; medicine the kid had been taking since he was little that just so happened to supercharge his farts enough for him to _rip time and space with them, _allowing for _honest to God _time travel abilities. The dynamic duo had been trying to figure out a plan of action on the bus to school, but neither of them had a way of contacting their third regular team member, _Wendy, _who was out sick.

Somehow they'd both lost their phones. Kyle hadn't asked questions on that one. Kenny possessing a cellphone during any given week was always a coin toss, and whether he had any minutes on the thing was a constant mystery. For Dee it was _strange_; the guy had another ability outside the time travel, and it was influencing people through social media. Having a phone was _part of his deal, _so him missing having his was really weird, and made Kyle suspect that something _serious _was going on.

Limited resources was a classic in comic books before a hero had to take on a difficult opponent; usually one that was _smart enough_ to take away those resources and force the heroes into a corner.

Kyle figured they could probably handle whatever the heck was going on... but he'd also been eager to help- even if doing so made him the kinda lame non-powered buddy character. While Dee had beat feet into the school to check his hiding places for his medicine, Kyle had hung back with Kenny and helped him get in contact with Wendy, filling her in on the situation and finding out what their options were once they had their technological support member online.

When it was found out that Dee's hiding places at school had been raided, a direction was decided on; they needed to get back to town as fast as possible. Kenny had been ready to pull a fire alarm, but Wendy had another way ready to go; a bomb threat on the Middle School that would force the building to be cleared before any attendance numbers could be taken that day- allowing Kenny and Dee to disappear into their masked identities of Mysterion and Buttlord to go do the _hero _thing.

Kyle had to remind himself that his distinction was not simply having a phone and Wendy's contact info, but being someone they trusted enough to relay messages for them. It was the only thing that was really keeping his jealousy in _check _at this point. He'd been _excited_ for them as kids were collected back onto the buses to be brought away from the middle school and back into town, let off at the community center as a holding area until the school was cleared by police. He'd even caused a distraction with one of the teachers so they'd have a chance to slip away... but all of that left him with an adrenaline high and no payoff.

Anxiety was a feeling that quickly gave way to frustration for him. He wanted to _do _something. Staying where he was expected to be, crowded in with other kids, under the watchful eye of teachers and other school staff... he would have paced, but there wasn't really any space to do so.

"Screw this, let's ditch."

Cartman did a double-take, standing next to Kyle. They'd stuck together out of habit- usually there'd be others from their group with them, but everyone was gone. Stan was out sick, having caught whatever yuk Wendy had gotten hit with, narrowing down a group that was usually _five boys _down to the _two _who most frequently butted heads.

"Well _shit, _okay." Cartman let out a faint laugh. "What's the plan? We gonna find Douchebag and Kenny before we blow this popsicle stand?"

"They got out when we got here." Kyle responded, not bothering to explain further as he sized up their possible exits. The community center had basketball courts next to the building; asking if they could go play would get them outside, but would probably come with some level of supervision... plus there was a fence out there. Could the crowd be used to their advantage? "Dee had some bullshit he needed to deal with."

"_And he didn't take us with him? _Fuckin' _lame." _Cartman groused. "He's been ditching us all over the place, man- and his _boyfriend; _he spends more time with _Kenny _than he does with _Butters. _That poor guy takes a chance and what does he get...?" The bigger boy let out a dramatic sigh. "Douchebag just doesn't understand the real value of relationships, _Keyl. _I feel like I gotta do something before he breaks the poor guy's heart."

"_He turned Butters down." _Kyle corrected tersely. "And you're the one giving them shit _every day _at lunch for being too gay around your food."

"_The school has PDA rules for a reason." _Cartman stated as if he were quoting something, closing his eyes and raising his chin like that conveyed authority. "I'd be just as mad if Stan started fucking fingering Wendy at our table; it's _unsanitary." _

"That's not even _close _to the same thing!" Kyle lost track of whatever scheme he might have been building, rounding on Cartman to glare at him as his voice raised a notch or two.

"I guess you're right, vaginas are _way _more unsanitary than dongs- do you think I need to remind Stan about that? Wendy's puss is gonna kill him if he's not careful. I should get him a tub of hand sanitizer for Christmas, or something."

"_Fellas!" _

Kyle had been on the edge of outright shouting at Cartman in the middle of the crowded main room of the community center... but was interrupted by none other than Butters himself. The blond boy was slipping his way through other students, ducking and weaving until he arrived with wide and excited eyes... which then dulled when he realized it was just Kyle and Cartman.

"O-Oh... hey fellas. Have either of ya seen Dee? O-or Kenny?"

"_Oh jeez, here we go." _Cartman muttered, rolling his eyes. "What did I fucking tell you, _Keyl?" _He reproached before going to Butters, putting a hand on the guy's shoulder like he was a crisis counselor. "It's okay Butters; I understand what you're going through, and I just want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?"

Butters blinked, confusion making his expression even wider as his shoulders nearly shot up to his ears. "_Y-ya do?!" _

"Of course I do... I know what it's like to give someone your heart to someone, only to have someone _else_ try to steal them away- but don't worry. Together, we can show Douchebag just what he's throwing away if he doesn't straighten up and do right by you."

"_Oh- _uh... _w-well _that's nice, but..."

"_Say no more!" _Eric put a finger to Butters's lips, hushing him mid-sentence. "It must be _so_ hard for you right now... you're so brave, speaking up and asking for help. We've got your back... _right Keyl?" _

_Oh for the love of..._

"_They're not __**dating**__, dumbass!" _Kyle broke, shouting loud enough that it overcame the din of the room.. enough so that he noticed several students near them going quiet, giving him some serious side-eye before returning to their own groups and conversations.

"Oh my _God, Keyl, _how can you be such a _HOMOPHOBE?! _Can't you see that _love is love? _Next you're gonna tell me that Craig and Tweek aren't together just because it makes _you uncomfortable! _Butters is our _friend, _and he needs our _help, _and you're just gonna stand there and say there isn't a problem because he's going out with another _guy? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" _

Kyle felt his jaw going slack as Cartman turned things up to eleven, shouting misinformation to all surrounding ears, and drawing back the attention of the people around them. Those who had been giving side-eye started staring, and a space was forming around himself, Cartman, and Butters as other people near the noise of Eric's braying backed off.

"A-actually, you guys, if you'd just _listen _to me-"

"_Everyone _knows that Dee turned him down!" Kyle barked back, turning up his own volume and refusing to let false statements go unchallenged. Maybe, on a different day, he could have tried to be the bigger person and just let it go... but not when Cartman was making a point of shouting at the top of his lungs. "_Everyone knows _they're not going out- but _you _keep harping on about it! _You're almost the only one who doesn't know what's **actually** going on!" _

It was something he shouldn't have said. A heat of the moment sort of thing, and one that seemed to strike surprise on Eric's face.

_Oh shit._

"Alright, boys, what seems to be the problem here?"

Before Cartman could react to the revelation Kyle had accidentally touched upon, a new voice joined the group. Specifically that of an adult; the middle school counselor: Ms. Misty. She was a small woman of Asian decent; one with whom the group had dealings with before... and, it was doubtless, knew a great deal about the kind of trouble they and their friends had gotten up to in elementary school. Her arrival among them instantly made Kyle take a step back, trying to open up distance between himself and Cartman so it looked less like he'd been about the punch the fucker straight in the mouth.

"_Keyl's being a homophobic __**jerk!" **_

_Then again..._

"_You take that back right now or I'll break your fucking face, Cartman!" _

"_Boys!" _Ms. Misty barked, producing a surprising amount of power despite her small frame and arresting both of them on the spot. The pocket of empty space within which they existed had expanded, as if expecting the two of them to fight. _Tension _was gearing up around the edges, and Butters was shrinking in on himself as he picked up on it.

"You guys, that's not even what I came to talk to you about... can't we just forget about it?" He quested in a small voice.

Ms. Misty took a second to observe the room as neither Kyle nor Cartman spoke, and then let out a sigh. "Alright, the three of you, with me."

"_What?" _Butters nearly yelped. _"Me too?" _

"Yes, Mister Stotch." Ms Misty confirmed, making a sharp motion with her hand that demanded they follow. "_All three of you_, come with me."

Around them, onlooking students let out a customary '_oooooooooooooooo' _that accompanied all walks of shame to the principal's office... only they weren't at school, and Principal Victoria was probably elsewhere to be the point of contact for police. Instead, Ms. Misty was leading them to the side doors that led out to the basketball courts, pushing said door open and leading the trio of adolescent boys outside with a poker face that belonged in Vegas.

The heavy door closed behind them, and Ms. Misty turned to look at her charges. Kyle had to hope that things were tilted in his favor; the last time they'd dealt with Ms. Misty, Cartman had the distinction of kidnapping the woman's dog to blackmail her into one of his bullshit schemes.

The small woman was still for a few seconds, shoulders drawn back and staring the trio of boys down for several seconds. Then, she let out a loud sigh, and her posture deflated.

"That room was a pressure cooker, huh?" She said, sounding much more casual now that they were out of the building.

Kyle blinked. _He'd not been expecting that._

"I know you boys are upset; things have been pretty crazy lately- and then that _fire; _some of your friends were in there, and here you are back at school, without any time to process. That's gotta be pretty tough." Ms. Misty spoke empathetically, completely departing from the tone Kyle remembered her using the last time he'd encountered her... then again, _the last time he'd encountered her, her dog had been kidnapped and threatened with death unless she acted like a maximum bitch. _He guessed this is what she was like when she _wasn't _under duress. "Now a bomb threat? That's pretty scary."

Kyle was silent for a moment, _dumbfounded... _but what the lady was saying was true. Shit had been crazy and scary lately; everyone in their regular friend group was _exhausted- _so much so that Dee even apologized to Cartman for some of the stuff that had gone down lately. If _he hadn't sent the message that caused the bomb threat to be called in, _he might have been losing his shit right now.

Eric didn't hesitate to jump on a supplied explanation for bad behavior. When he spoke, it was with the warble of practiced crocodile tears. "I... _I just wanna go hooooome." _He whined. "Everything is _confusing _and _crazy _and _I just wanna spend time with my friends and make sure everyone's okaaaaaaaaay..." _

Kyle looked. Was Ms. Misty buying it? It was hard to tell... she was pretty tough to read. He wasn't to throw in with Eric and join in just yet- besides, he hadn't fake-cried to get his way for _years. _

"It's okay to feel that way Eric, but I can't let you go home without releasing you to a parent or guardian, or if everyone is dismissed. We're waiting on the word from Principal Victoria right now on whether we're using the late-start schedule today or just sending kids home... but if you boys want to cool off out here, I can send one of the teachers out here to supervise you. Would you boys like that?"

"_Yes please." _Kyle piled on, but not as theatrically as Eric. "It's just... _really hard _for us to be in the crowd right now."

"Y-yeah." Butters got with the program, having been silent up to this point.

"I'll go get one of the teachers- I'll see if we can find a basketball, too."

"Thank you Ms. Misty!" Cartman cried out gratefully- laying it on _thick _while he and Kyle were probably thinking the same thing; that they could make a break for it the second the woman's back was turned... Butters could either come with them or be left holding the bag; his choice.

"Don't mention it- _hm?" _

The counselor paused, interrupted by something as she was nearly to the door. Kyle remained still, despite the excitement of being on the cusp of getting away with something making his heart thud away in his chest. The moment she was through that door, he was ready to run and get the hell out of here... but the petite woman stopped and pulled out her cellphone, checking it with curiosity. She blinked at the screen, confused by whatever information it was relaying to her, and then shrugged it off, proceeding through the heavy door to return inside.

Just as the door was falling closed, Kyle heard something that hurt his ears- a choir of high-pitched, electronic noises that stabbed into his brain and made him feel like he was arrested to the spot. Sounds that seemed to be coming from multiple sources, all screaming at similar pitch and making a horrible, painful cacophony felt like it was causing paralysis and _possibly _making his ears bleed at the same time.

The door thumped shut.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

_I WONDER WHAT THAT'S ALL ABOUT _

_:3_

As said at the top of this chapter, I thank y'all so much for supporting this story all the way to its current installment. I am SUPER PSYCHED to be wrapping up the story that's been slowly building up through the other NKS stories, and this project has been one of the most satisfying and fun things I've done in a _looooooooooong _time.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	2. Versions Of The Future

**::End Of The Line – Versions Of The Future::**

Buttlord was experiencing a moment of mental gridlock as she stared at the man who just entered her home. Despite her usual habit towards silence, she shouted aloud at him;

"You- What are _you _doing here?!"

The question was born of shock, of disbelief.

_Morgan Freeman was here. _She hadn't seen him in years, not since the _Mitch Conner _incident when she'd first adopted her costumed identity as part of a game with her friends, and began unearthing the truth behind her influence in online spaces over the public discourse. He was the guy who _taught _her how to rip time and space with her ass, enigmatically guiding her through that entire adventure with his velvety smooth voice; either in person or _somehow projected into her head. _

He'd skipped town after Cartman's scheme to make it Christmas every day had been foiled. She never got the chance to get any real answers out of him; like how he knew so much about her and her ability, or figure out where the fuck he'd picked up _telepathy _in his skill-set. The fact that he was _here _might have had meaning, but there wasn't any space for that. She felt no relief seeing him, just a blind rage that wanted to beat his face into meat paste for dipping out the _second _she might have had the chance to really figure out what all the rules were around her powers without fucking pressure from local bullshit.

In response to her shouting, he let out a soft chuckle, returning her glower with a soft and kindly smile. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, _New Kid? _Though, I suppose they don't call you that anymore..."

Something internal failed. Like an enraged dog straining against the rotten cord of a leash, restraint snapped and her body threw itself forward as her gloved fists balled up, lips drawn back into a snarl that remembered feeling _abandoned _and _tricked _when he'd disappeared from the taco shop.

She _hated _this shit. She hated not getting answers. She hated not fully knowing was she was capable of, and getting things on a fucking drip-drip-drip of information she didn't fucking control. _She hated that he could just disappear, and even __**Wendy**__ couldn't find out where the hell he went-_

The force of her body was arrested by a grasp around her middle; she'd been seized from behind, pulling her backwards as her toes dug into the carpet of her living room, trying to advance anyway.

Mysterion, her partner, had prevented her from doing the stupid thing... _as usual._

"Now, now, there's no need for that." Morgan intoned evenly, not flinching back as he finished divesting himself of outdoor effects. The man had taken off his shoes, hat, and coat, to stand on the entryway rug in black slacks and a cream-colored sweater. If not for his iconic face of freckles, he could have been mistaken for any reasonably healthy grandpa; what with the generally relaxed aura he carried around. "You proved your point the last time around, didn't you?"

_NOT HARD ENOUGH!_

She'd fought him before, more as a _because she could _sort of thing- and won... but looking back at that, she heavily suspected that he'd been going easy on her; _playing along with the game, _as it were... which, really, fed right back into the root of her outrage with him. _She didn't trust him, nor whatever help he might have been here to provide. His presence didn't feel __**helpful **__to her. It felt manipulative. _Like he was here to say just the right things to get her to do something, to lead her further down some rabbit hole or another, and it wasn't necessarily going to improve her life in any way.

It made her feel like this town had already decided it was going to go fucky, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it but hang on for the ride and try to survive.

"Buttlord, calm down!" Mysterion pleaded, trying to yank her back from her course as she continued pulling forward, inch by inch, like a plow horse dragging a sledge through heavy snow. "He probably has information we need!"

"_I'm sick of his **shit**!" _Buttlord spat, stubbornly refusing to relent.

"What the- what are _you _doing here?!"

Steps had thumped up the stairs from the basement, and another voice had joined the conversation... echoing Buttlord's reaction nearly word-for-word, and carrying damn near the same inflection.

Hardly surprising, considering the woman making that demand was simply an adult version of her. Kartwright had come up out of the basement to join the party, and greeted Morgan Freeman's arrival with just as much enthusiasm as her younger version did... with possibly a _touch _more indignity.

The black man's gaze shifted upwards, away from the costumed teen who was all but foaming at the mouth to beat the hell out of him. Buttlord didn't fully register the quality of his expression. "I imagine you already know the answer to that question, Alyssa... or shall I call you _Haley _for the moment?"

_He knows our real name?! _

Buttlord tried to make a lunge, yanking Mysterion along a precious few more inches, while letting out a guttural noise from between clenched teeth.

"Doc, _help me!" _Mysterion barked.

There was a pause, then a sigh.

Buttlord felt a firm hand apply to her shoulder, grasping and pulling her back. It wasn't like Mysterion's grasp, where he had to throw his entire body into restraining her; rather a grip that knew _exactly _what kind of fire was burning in her at that moment and, while it sympathized, sternly told her to put it away. At first she ignored it, feeling _vicious, dangerous, _and certain that Mysterion's arms would give in at any moment... but having another hand pulling her back, firmly, steadily, caused her attempts at forward progression to cease. Her head twisted back to look up from beneath her hood... and found Kartwright looking down at her with a resigned half smile under tired eyes.

It was a mirror image of her own face, her own green eyes... just with a great deal more maturity.

"... I know you're mad at him, but starting fights isn't going to help right now. You know that. We have bigger problems."

Buttlord's teeth ground together; if not her her gloves her nails would have driven into her palms hard enough to leave marks. _Helpful _was not what she was concerned with... but Kartwright was right. Slowly, she re-centered herself to stop pulling forward, and Mysterion was able to let go of her without either of them falling down. With that crisis averted, Kartwright looked back up to Morgan, who still waited patiently in the entryway for everyone to sort themselves out.

"Haley is fine;" Kartwright answered the question of her name; it was part of the assumed name she'd been living under. _Haley Kartwright. _"Things are less confusing when we all have different names. I take it you already know about _Marie?" _

"She's why I'm here." Morgan answered with a nod, although his voice took on a regretful note.

"Wait- _uh... _who's watching Eric?" Mysterion questioned.

Buttlord glanced back. Between herself, Mysterion, and Kartwright, the only other person in the house was her _dad. _He'd come into the basement to alert her that someone had been at the door for her, and appeared to have remained down there... which, honestly, might have been for the best.

"Chris is." Kartwright confirmed. "There's only one way out of the basement that Eric could use, and that's coming up the stairs, so I'm not terribly worried... besides, he's just... _lost and confused. _So he's acting angry, because angry gets shit done. I'm surprised he's held onto his _sanity_ this long."

_Eric _seemed to be the way they were referring to their captive; a future version of Eric Cartman. He was an adult version of the boy Buttlord knew as one of her main group of friends, and very possibly the worst example of humanity their age group had to offer. She and Mysterion had just returned from securing a predestination paradox that, in short, put all the pieces in place for... well, _this _moment to happen. Where they were all here, at her house, in relative safety from _Marie... _who was in the process of rebuilding an abandoned government lab, although her full purpose for doing so was still unknown.

Marie was yet another version of Buttlord, or _Alyssa _as some select people knew her. More often, the name was _Dee, _playing off of Cartman's nickname of _Douchebag _and her government designation as _Dovahkiin _or _Dragonborn. _Either way, she, Kartwright, and Marie were all versions of the same person; _Alyssa Ostenmayer, _at different ages and from different timelines- Dee being a teen, Kartwright an adult, and Marie a senior. Another part of that _fucking time loop _had been saving Kartwright's ass from Marie, who had tried to kill and frame Kartwright in a gambit to throw Dee and her friends off Marie's scent. Instead, Buttlord had gotten there in time to _time-glitch _Kartwright's death and undo it... and, after some work, unblock the woman's memories so she could realize her true identity outside of the one Marie had given her a few years ago.

It had been a busy bit of time traveling.

"We should pool our information and come up with a plan of attack." Mysterion asserted himself, and Mister Freeman had made the approach from the entryway to join the group. Buttlord eyed him stiffly. "Taking Eric the way we did? Could have looked like the guy ran away, but it probably won't be _too _long before Marie catches on and realizes Buttlord is still time-travel enabled. We need to get our shit together- what are we even aiming for? She's _temporally displaced, _I'm guessing handing her over to _police_ isn't really the best option."

"Nor the most viable." Kartwright agreed. "Ideally, we're return her to her own timeline, but there's no guarantee she'd _stay _there. The best way to go about it might just be to _kill _her."

"_That _would be a poor plan."

Heads turned. Morgan Freeman had departed the entryway to approach the loose trio where they stood in the living room. As always, the enigmatic man had arrived with _information; _a fact that was at the root of Dee's frustration with him in that he only gave it away tiny bits at a time, and never _before _something had gone terribly wrong. Always after. _Always_ at the edge of catastrophe. The fact that he was here? _Now? _Made the paranoid prickle that liked to dance up her spine certain that something horrible was _already _in motion.

Still, if he knew what needed to be done with Marie...

She took a deep breath, trying to self soothe. She noticed Mysterion relaxing next to her; he'd been tense and ready to grab her again.

"Why's that?" Kartwright quested, cocking her head as she crossed her arms beneath her bust, hands cupping her elbows. "She's from a different timeline- _removing _her is just removing one instance out of _multitudes." _

"So you _are _from different timelines?" Mysterion quested. He'd been left out of most of these conversations. Buttlord was curious, too; the last she'd talked to Kartwright, she hadn't exactly been _coherent. _"How'd you all end up in this one?"

"_Ahem..." _Morgan pointedly cleared his throat, giving the assembled group a _look. _"Stories often make more sense when they're told from the _beginning." _He noted with sardonic amusement, brows arched up over his weathered face whilst a smirk played beneath his freckled cheeks. "Why don't we all sit down for a moment? While we all have one to spare."

Glances were traded. Buttlord didn't like it; she didn't _want _to sit and listen right now. She was primed up for action and ready to fuck shit up... but the looks she got from her partner and future self quickly let her know that she was outvoted. With a faint sigh, she resigned herself to doing exactly as suggested; proceeding to the couch and having a seat. Mysterion and Kartwright joined her, the trio of them watching as Morgan came around himself, but proceeded to the other side of the coffee table to stand in the space between it and the TV and face them over it.

"So _why _shouldn't we kill Marie?" Kartwright quested.

_Okay, so I'm still an impatient bitch as an adult. Just with a **tiny** bit more restraint. Cool._

"She started the chain of events that led all three of you to occupy this timeline." Morgan responded simply. "She didn't _mean _to cause a split, of course. It was all an accident, and she's spent her time since then trying to fix it. At first she thought she was just following orders, but then she was betrayed... and the rest? _Well..." _He made a motion, indicating both Buttlord and Kartwright. "That's how your universes came to be. What got it all started was a special kind of foolishness... the sort that only happens when someone's too heartbroken to realize what they're doing."

Buttlord's hands grasped at her knees. It was something she could do that wasn't as actively hostile as clenching her fists. Inwardly, she willed Mister Freeman to _get to the point already. _

"_Heartbroken? _That..." Kartwright made a face. "That doesn't sound like my kind of motivation. I'm sure Marie's led a different life, but I'm more of a _revenge served hot _kinda gal- pretty sure the _kid _here is, too."

"Not Marie." Morgan continued with a faint nod. "Though she had her own reasons for following along... no, _Eric. _This all began with Eric Cartman, when the _perfect little life _he'd built for himself began to fall apart under the strain of his company's success."

"_**Cartman's** perfect little life?" _Mysterion broke in, disbelieving. "You're tellin' me that _pathetic sack of crap _eventually got his shit together?"

"In the original version of this specific universe, he got himself on the right track some years ago." Morgan nodded sagely. "After an episode of various parents in this town hiring actors to act as adult versions of their children, displaced in time, with the intent of scaring their kids off of drugs and alcohol rather than _talking _to them about the subject. It didn't work, but it resulted in young Eric taking the time to think about the kind of person he might grow up into if he didn't start taking care of himself. He stopped eating junk, avoided drugs, took his studies seriously... and eventually grew into a ruthless businessman who founded the world's first commercial time travel company; using a mixture of temporal tech, period costumes, and camouflage to take members of the public on _historic sightseeing tours _into the past. Stand in the crowd at the Boston Massacre, watch protesters at Tiananmen Square, witness the dismantling of the Berlin wall... with a _side venture; _a private temporal police force, under the command of the federal government. Eric's company agreed to provide equipment, training, and data, in return for a number of legal loopholes that absolved his company of responsibility of any public harm it might cause."

"That... _yeah, _that sounds like Cartman." Mysterion agreed, faintly nodding along. _"Son of a bitch, _so how does Marie factor into this mess?"

"Marie was part of that temporal police force- already an agent of the federal government through the Agency, the invention of standardized time travel technology in combination with her ability to popularize movements with the masses, or directly command a single person, made her an ideal candidate for changing both the past and future to the administration's liking. She was already mentally acclimated to the stresses of time travel, and used to following orders; _the ideal soldier _for anyone who might want to reshape events to their liking."

Buttlord felt as if she'd been slapped in the face with a dead fish, both _shocked _and _repulsed _as she digested that information.

"She _what?!" _

Kartwright was much louder about it, quite literally leaping to her feet.

"You're telling me _Marie worked FOR those bastards?! _They stole us, our _family, _they ran experiments- _they're the reason I grew up on the run! _We were _never _safe, always moving around, always looking over our shoulders, taking on new names and new identities with every _fucking _town! You're telling me she _worked for the enemy? Willingly?!" _

Morgan gave Kartwright a _look, _going silent and offering up nothing but a few expectant blinks. Slowly, the woman got ahold of herself and sat back down.

Buttlord swallowed hard while looking back to Captain Exposition Dump.

"In Marie's reality, she and her parents never escaped. They _tried, _but where _your _family managed to get out in a somewhat messy escape, and _Alyssa's _managed to utterly disappear... Marie's never did. Her parents were de-powered by the original version of the Machine, the... _trauma_ of which left them poorly suited to raise a child. Where you and Alyssa escaped to South Park, your families thinking a quiet mountain town would be the perfect place to _hide, _Marie's family was moved out here with a government handler because it had been identified as a _hotspot _for strange happenings. And where you two each met a young Eric Cartman, directing a game focused on The Stick of Truth where his every action was petty and short-sighted, Marie met a clever young man who was running a similar game, but playing with the foresight of a cunning tactician."

"... she took his side." Buttlord muttered aloud, remembering those days with a nostalgia that felt misplaced. Cartman had involved her in that game when her family first moved in, and Butters ended up being her first real _friend _in meatspace, with the guys becoming her main group later on. To imagine that scenario going a different way, where Eric _hadn't _been so obviously dickish, to the point that she chose his side when the chips were down?

Yeah, that probably would have been a different path. She was damn stubborn once she'd made a decision, and that stubbornness extended to loyalty.

Morgan nodded faintly. "And that would continue for years to come, even as Marie's abilities became more understood by her handlers and precautions were taken, removing her from public life almost entirely. There was a stage of _rebellion, _after which a collar was made that controlled when her voice had influence, and a surgery was carried out to prevent her from ripping time whenever she pleased; the loss of the ability was considered acceptable in return for keeping control of her, as an asset. Eric's deal with the federal government did more than protect his company; it let him see his old friend again."

"As a superior._" _Kartwright intoned flatly, somehow keeping a snarl out of her voice. "He must have _loved _that."

"What he _loved _was his life." Morgan continued, bearing the interruption with only a faintly stern tone. "He hadn't founded his company alone; it was the pragmatism of his _wife _that led him that far, helped him stay the course, even when things got hard."

"... please don't tell me... _Heidi?" _Mysterion winced.

"Heidi Turner." Morgan nodded solemnly. "But that's where things turned _sour, _too. Heidi didn't like the deal Eric cut with the government. Some months pregnant, she decided to divorce him. Eric's world began to fall apart when he realized he couldn't talk her out of it; that no amount of _sweet words _or _compromise _could undo the deal he'd already signed, and his budding family would be the price he paid for bargaining with Uncle Sam... and he realized, maybe for the first time in his life, that his actions could have terrible, terrible consequences. For the first time in his life... _Eric Cartman wished to punish himself."_

Pieces were falling into place. The fat version of Eric downstairs, caught between two timelines, was a product of this strange chain of temporal shenanigans.

"_So he came back in time instead of dealing with his mess?!" _

It wasn't Kartwright who roared out outrage this time... it was Mysterion. He didn't leap up, but he did _shout, _voice dropping with the _loathing _for someone they called friend.

Again, Morgan waited for tempers to cool, this time pointedly clearing his throat. Buttlord reached across to her partner, putting a hand on his back, feeling the fact that he was physically _trembling _with rage. The couch was going to start vibrating with how pissed off they all were.

"Quite." Their narrator finally continued. "He framed it to Marie like it was orders; that she needed to take him back in time for a specific reason. Marie, used to taking orders, asked no questions. Eric knew how to make it look legitimate. Upon arrival, they proceeded separately; Eric claimed he was heading to a safe house, while Marie headed for a company supply depot where she'd pick up equipment and await further instructions. Instead, she was betrayed; sold out by Eric, who called the feds and reported her location. He thought it wouldn't matter; he was about to _undo _their future, anyway... all by going to himself at the moment where he decided to turn his life around, and telling his child-self all about it, _knowing _he wouldn't believe him and double-down on his terrible lifestyle."

"... which triggered _my _timeline, didn't it?" Kartwright theorized. "The Eric downstairs; he remembers that happening, from both sides. _That _Eric, _my _Eric, he's the one _her _Eric talked to."

"And the Eric he became." Morgan confirmed. "Remaining in the past due to an unfortunate quirk of his chaperon."

"Fuck, _of course..." _Kartwright muttered, sounding more than a touch _horrified. _"It's not just me, _we're both anchors." _

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

Did I bring Morgan Freeman into this mess _specifically _so I had an excuse to lay down a _massive _exposition dump?

Why yes, yes I did.

Fuck you, it's canon XD

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	3. Viral Video

**::End Of The Line – Viral Video::**

"The _fuck _is an _anchor?" _

Kartwright had said it like it was some kind of revelation, but the impact hadn't yet landed with Buttlord. There were a lot of new vocabulary terms she was picking up, to the point that she felt like she should have been taking notes.

"Someone who has passed through enough time and space that they no longer fluctuate with it- a stable point that cannot be changed by a shift, a split, or a collapse." Morgan Freeman explained before Kartwright could answer. "Someone who ceases to be the _effect _of events, but instead becomes the _cause. _Anchors stabilize unlikely timelines, hold predestination paradox loops in place, and are more prone to duplication when moving forward and backwards. The only way to alter an anchor's timeline is to take direct action against _them... _but I'm afraid that's where Marie has gotten herself into a bit of a mess."

Kartwright let out a soft gasp; it sounded like something had just clicked into place for her.

"... the ambush. When I came back with my Eric, Marie set up the ambush hoping to catch and de-power me, hoping it would _undo her timeline... _but I was already an anchor at that point- it didn't work."

"You're getting ahead of the story." Morgan noted wryly.

"What happened to Marie after Eric betrayed her?" Mysterion quested, getting them back on track.

"She was taken into custody, studied by the Agency. They devoted their resources to her... and focused less on her younger self. In a security lapse, that child and her family finally managed to _escape, _in somewhat... _inelegant_ fashion."

"Me!" Kartwright blinked. "Without Marie's interference... my life might have been a lot like hers- the escape was a _mess; _mom and dad noticed less patrols, but they went for it and we _got out... _We stayed with mom's mom for a while, she was _furious, _but gave us a place to hide while mom and dad got fake ID's to try and give me a 'normal' childhood without getting noticed by the system. There were a few moves, a few different houses, and then... we moved to South Park." Kartwright leaned back slightly, letting out a soft laugh. "... she's the reason I grew up with any sense of freedom _at all... _even if the government still knew where I lived my entire adult life. Once they pinned us down again, I was too old and too entrenched; they couldn't just _disappear _me anymore without it being an incident, and there was no way in _hell _I was going back."

"So you grew up with the regular version of Cartman." Mysterion brought attention to Kartwright, pressing things on. "What happened then?"

"... we both started getting memory echos. Something was _wrong, _temporally. And, like Marie's version of the future, someone had founded a time travel company- one that made no deals with the federal government, however, and blocked regulation at every turn. Kyle was a lawyer who wanted someone on the inside to find out what was going on, and since I was already on a registry for being _temporally acclimated_, I'd been getting calls... all I had to do was say yes, and I had access to their tech, their training, their goals... and yeah, someone needed to be regulating that shit. I just had to play it cool until Kyle was ready to bring the a suit against them... and then Eric showed up at my place, out of the blue, in the middle of the night, complaining of nightmares. Of having two different lives in his head, and saying he _needed _to go back."

Kartwright went quiet for a moment. The last Buttlord had heard her recounting this, she'd been _angry, _yelling and punching walls. The anger was gone now, and she was more analytical, frowning thoughtfully as she relayed the series of events.

"... I also felt compelled. Some part of me knew I _had _to do it... _fuck, _shit got processed as a predestination paradox, didn't it? With Marie anchoring him to the past, and his shitty version staying there, I had to _bring _that version to the past at the right time to get folded in, or else it woulda caused a _split."_

"A split? Like... an alternate universe?" Mysterion asked.

"Not as much." Morgan shook his head. "Alternate universes are all around us at all times; they exist as consequence of all possible outcomes of all things being _true; _a part of quantum theory often articulated with the Schrodinger's Cat paradox. A _split _is when one universe _becomes _two distinctly separate ones at a specific point; a divergence that can be _violent _enough to collapse the entire line if the separation isn't clean. Eric came to the past with an anchor, and caused a shift- Marie's universe _became _Haley's universe... and Eric remained in the past, despite the fact that the childhood friend who would eventually grow to be a time traveling agent of the government would no longer grow up to be the same person. If the version that came back with Haley had _not _been brought back to close the loop, it would have _forced _a split that would have likely collapsed the entire line."

Buttlord did _not _like the sound of that.

"So Marie comes back with _smart _Cartman. Marie gets captured, Kartwright escapes, smart Cartman becomes _stupid _Cartman because Kartwright's version of him doubled down on being a fat idiot." Mysterion surmised. "... how'd we get to _our _version of reality?"

"Marie's parents were early victims of the original machine; it depowered them, and broke their minds." Morgan answered. "When Marie returned to the past, and was betrayed by Eric, she took that role while Haley's family escaped. They fed _her _to the machine, and she was both captive and powerless... mostly. She still held on a _trace _of her influence; not as strong as it used to be, not unlike Miss Amelia Reynolds after her time at the lab in this time frame. She used that little bit of power she had left very carefully, in time transitioning from a captive of the Agency to a worker in the lab, _studying _the machine and biding her time. By the time Haley was all grown up, and time travel technology had been rediscovered... Marie was ready to begin her scheme to fix what she'd broken."

"... _son of a bitch, she doubled-back." _Haley gaped. "_That's _how she knew where the drop point was- she wormed her way into the company; all she would have had to do was _wait _two seconds after I made the jump and she would have known _exactly _where I landed and which way I'd go for supplies. But... what's her plan? If it was to _fix Eric _she kinda missed her shot.

"She went back further than you did." Mysterion reported, sounding somewhat numb. "I found records in the lab while I was exploring the place... Marie had been _running _it for years; at least a decade."

"She came back at a time that she considered most opportune." Morgan agreed, continuing on. "When her younger self would have been just a baby; newly born and helpless. She took control of the Agency as best she could, once again operating with as much finesse as possible and refining the priming noises that increased her potency despite what little power she still had left in her... and demanded access to _you, _little Alyssa,as soon as possible."

Buttlord found herself the subject of Morgan's direct gaze.

"... the notes in the margins... the doctors arguing over the transfer order..." Buttlord remembered aloud, somewhat dazed. With Kartwright's help, they'd gotten access to the documents produced during her family's time in captivity; from when her parents were first picked up, all the way up until they escaped. Unlike Kartwright, her family had escaped when she was just an infant... but it appeared _very much like Kartwright, _that opportunity came because of Marie's interference. "My family got away when they tried to transfer us to the lab for P0069; _Marie's the reason we escaped." _

"Rhyming, but never fully repeating." Kartwright chuckled faintly, sounding as if she were repeating a line that had been quoted to her a thousand times. "Time's weird like that."

"Failing to get _you, _Marie moved on to her back-up plan; building the machine a decade before it was supposed to exist, and refining the design to make the process less traumatic... and give it a new feature." Morgan reported.

_That _was new information- finding out what the machine _could actually do, in full- _Buttlord leaned forward without even thinking about it, staring intently at Mister Freeman and willing him, once more, to _get on with it. _

Morgan's mouth was open, ready to go on... but something interrupted him.

A sound, coming from the door to the basement. A horrible, high pitched, _piercing _sound that drilled into the ears, despite layers of separation.

It was a sound that Buttlord recognized, as did Kartwright, and Mysterion could certainly _guess. _It was an electronic scream that, despite being muffled through a door and distance, arrested the people who heard it in place.

It was their signal that Marie was onto them, and that their safety had been a false assumption.

* * *

When the door snapped shut, Butters found himself unable to move for a few seconds after. He wasn't sure why- the noise that had come out of the community center as Ms. Misty went back inside was something he'd never heard before, but it had locked him in place as sure as if he'd been frozen solid. For the split second he'd heard it, in fact, he felt like something had been forcing its way into his head through his ears, dragging control away from him, and it scared him so badly his knees nearly gave out when his body started responding again a moment after it was cut off by the heavy metal door.

"_FUCK THIS! I'M OUT!" _

Eric regained himself, and had quite literally thrown his hands up, taking several steps back and away from the side of the door that led back in side.

"What the _heck _was that?" Kyle asked, holding his ears through his hat as he, too, regained mobility. All three of them had been victim to the sound, apparently... but Eric was the only one who appeared to have a clue what it _was._

"It's one of _Douchebag's _fuckin' _tricks, _that's what it fuckin' is! He's got these noises on his _goddamn _phone that hurt yer ears and piss ya off, and the more pissed off ya get the harder it is the fuckin' _ignore _him when he decides to open his _stupid fucking face and start giving orders! He fuckin __**brainwashes **__people with that noise, and I'm not sticking around to become some kind of pussy-sniffing zombie!" _Eric spat, holding out his hands to give the bird to both him and Kyle at the same time before rotating his wrists and swapping to his pointer fingers to direct elsewhere. "_Fuck you guys, I'm goin' home." _

"Dee wouldn't... make people into zombies, right?" Butters quested softly, glancing to Kyle and feeling like he remembered something _similar _to that noise. Not the same, but the glitchy, gabled feedback Dee had used to rig the singing contest at the homecoming dance; it was _like _that... and that hadn't made the crowd into zombies. It had effected their behavior, sure, but no one had ended up drooling with a complete loss of free will, nor gained a desire for brains. The one they'd just heard coming out of the community center sounded more _refined, _kinda like going through a popular YouTuber's old content with their original audio set-up before the suggested section gave you something current with clean and crisp sound.

"I... I don't think so." Kyle responded, watching Eric cross the basketball court to a gate in the fence that would allow someone out onto the sidewalk beyond. "He's been really _careful _with that ability ever since that whole deal with the government agent and the president- and how would he even...?"

Kyle stopped talking. His hand groped over his pockets, searching for and eventually producing his phone. At the other end of the basketball court, Eric began loudly swearing, shaking the gate. It appeared to be padlocked.

"Butters, _Butters, _check your phone!"

Distracted from Eric's attempts to leave the group, Butters jolted back over to Kyle and, as he was told, fished his cellphone out of his pocket. He already had it on silent, prepared for the school day; usually he'd only check it if he was in the bathroom or at lunch. Getting caught with his phone out during class would have been a one-way ticket to a grounding _and _getting it taken away for a while. Flicking his thumb over the touch screen to unlock it, he was greeted with a trio of notifications; one was a text from Dee's phone, another a text from Wendy, and the last a message from Wendy that appeared to be part of a larger group chat over Facebook Messenger. As he unlocked his phone, however, he was getting hit with more texts from more people- Clyde, Jimmy, Craig, Tweek, Stan, Token... nearly everyone whom with he'd given his mobile number to, even if they weren't completely friends. Heck, there were even messages from the _girls, _Like Bebe and Heidi.

They were all multimedia messages, all with the same bit of text above the file.

'Have you seen this? It's amazing!'

"Whoa... they're gonna run up my data!" Butters cried, quickly flicking over to settings to shut off automatic downloads. His dad was gonna _kill him _if he went over his data limit for the week.

"... this isn't right..." Kyle muttered.

"_Right?" _Butters yelped, panicked. "Just cause somethin' is cool and everyone is sharin' it around, people should be considerate 'bout sending it to everybody- some of us _don't _have unlimited data and can get into huge trouble-"

"_Butters, they're all the same!" _Kyle cut him off, reaching out to grab him by the shoulder and shake him. It jolted his system, making him shirk back as his brain skipped a track and came back to the moment at hand; standing in the basketball court with Kyle... and Eric still rattling the gate like an angry monkey- like that was going to cause the lock preventing his exit to come loose. "Every single one- doesn't you think that's _weird? _And they're all sent at the _same time- _The only one that's different is _Dee's, _and it was sent first!"

Kyle was right. Once Butters had stemmed the flow of new messages coming in and prevented his phone from automatically downloading the files, he was able to scroll to Dee's message in particular and see that hers was just a little different. It was still a multimedia file, but the text above it was just one word.

[Received, 11:00] URGENT

"Look, I got one from him, too." Kyle pointed out, turning his phone screen to Butters to show him that he had the same message, received at the same time. "Something _fishy _is going on, here..."

"Should... should we play the file?" Butters asked. "Wait a minute... Dee _lost _their phone on Sunday. It got left behind in the pizzeria after the place started on fire."

"Just a second, there's a different message from Wendy; did you get it too? The group chat?"

Butters nodded; the round icon from the messenger overlay was sitting at the edge of his screen, waiting for him to poke it. When he did, he could see the list of people in the chat; himself, Kyle, Kenny, Stan, and of course Wendy.

That was everyone who had been at the meeting on Saturday, before they'd gone to search garages. Everyone _but _Dee, Butters noticed.

The message Wendy had sent into the chat was also a video file, but it wasn't like the one that had been sent to Butters's phone dozens of times from dozens of numbers. That video's preview image was black, where this one clearly showed Wendy's face; it appeared to have been recorded in her room at home; he could see her walls and bed in the background.

He and Kyle shared a look. Neither of them knew what was going on.

"Shit, _shit, shit! _You _morons, get down!" _

Butters blinked, looking back to where Eric had been to see the boy returning to him and Kyle, nearly at a full run despite having ducked his body down low along the way. There was no mistaking the look on the guy's face; _he was scared. _Butters didn't question him, his knees buckling and ducking himself down against the wall as adrenaline kicked in- what had Eric so freaked out? _Did he see a cop? Were they about to get in trouble for being out of school and unsupervised?_

_Oh hamburgers._

"What the fuck do you _want, _fatass? We're trying to figure out-"

"_Shut your mouth and **get down!" **_

Eric didn't raise his voice at Kyle, instead spitting the words down with a vicious intensity that was only given greater weight _by the fact _that it was hardly a whisper. Kyle still didn't seem to buy it, but tucked himself against the wall of the community center anyway.

"Alright-"

"_Shh!" _

Butters watched as Kyle made a face, very nearly rolling his eyes before complying with Eric and lowering his voice. "_Alright, why are we cowering against the side of the building?" _

"_Listen for it..." _

Kyle made that face again, and _did _roll his eyes this time... but Butters listened. He focused on the sounds of the outdoors; the breeze faintly rattling the chain link fence that went around the basketball court, and the oddly muffled nature of the air when the world was covered in snow... and heard footsteps. Not just one person, or even a dozen... _many _footsteps, all together in a group.

Almost like _marching._

A moment later, they came around the corner, and into view. Following along the sidewalk, and spilling out onto the road... was all the students who had been inside the community center, waiting to be either sent home or bussed back to the school. They didn't move with any particular precision, but they were all walking at about the same pace and in the same direction. They didn't split up at the intersection when they came to it, instead all of them hanging a right to head northward, and continuing on in a loosely organized mob. Among them were adults; teachers and other school officials; even Ms. Misty.

None of them spoke. There were no wandering eyes. All them looked forward. They were either _uninterested _inor _unaware _of their surroundings.

"See what I told you?" Eric hissed, remaining low despite the fact that _nothing _provided any cover for them out here. It didn't matter. None of them moved. _"Fucking zombies. Douchebag's gone and fucking brainwashed everyone!" _

Butters felt his stomach drop. Dee wouldn't do this... would she? Not without good reason. He didn't want to believe it, but he could still _see _it in front of him... his peers and his teachers, all moving in a silent, ominous mass.

It scared him. Their eyes were glazed over. It reminded him of Agent Russel; a man Dee _had _manipulated, and who went insane as a result. Another result of that?_ Butters getting shot and nearly dying. _

"W-where d'ya think they're going?" He stuttered softly.

"Don't know, don't care- we gotta track this shit to the _source." _Eric proclaimed.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

Y'know that stray thought Dee had in the last story, about how she could probably seed the whole country with a trigger word through a viral video and have herself an on-demand army the moment she gave a signal? And then she _dismissed _that thought from her brainmeats because _she still has a sense of ethics?_

_Yeah, Marie lost that some years ago._

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	4. Truce of Rivals

**::End Of The Line – Truce of Rivals::**

Eric Cartman had a... _complicated _relationship with Douchebag.

From the very beginning, Eric figured that getting a new kid in town would be a great time to _flex _and remind everyone who was the real power in the playground hierarchy... but it was quickly proven by the end of the whole thing with the _stick of truth _that the newly crowned _King Douchebag _was a threat to his position on the social ladder. Even in trying to correct it, it seemed like nothing _stuck _to the guy. It was like there was no forcing him into the pecking order; even in a new game, where the guy started out on the bottom? He was mowing through everyone by the end of it.

For a time, Eric had seen Douchebag as a rival, and their struggle was simply the way things had to be before he would, of course, come out victorious in the end- that was how all the best stories went; with the evil, scheming asshole winning most of the time only for the intrepid hero to come out on top; usually with the power of friendship involved. Later, he began to think the guy was maybe... _broken _in some way, and they were actually friends- that the occasional word he muttered for only Eric to hear wasn't elaborate gas-lighting, but in fact the way he denoted Eric as his favorite among the group that he'd managed to attach himself to.

Now Eric was certain the kid was the enemy- something had been _gnawing _on him since the whole mess with the pedo teacher getting a mock trial. Eric had volunteered for defense, and Douchebag had _lost his shit _when it became clear that Eric was _winning _over Kyle, who was representing the prosecution. The guy had drug Eric into the bathroom during a recess, and instead of doing what he _usually _did when faced with adversity [beat the living piss out of anything in his way]... he _shouted at him. _Threatened him, commanded capitulation... and Eric had been ready to comply. Not just in the way that he'd cower and cry when faced with danger and immediately change his tune the moment he was assured he'd come to no harm- no, _he felt like he had to._

After that, Eric had tried to get revenge- if Douchebag didn't want the world knowing what he sounded like, Eric was going to _make sure everyone heard him. _He had a whole scheme set up, which would have included a [monetized] webcast if only he had gotten the guy to sing at the school homecoming dance as part of a contest... but _surprise surprise, _his best friends fucking _betrayed him _to _side with buttfucking Douchebag and beat the shit out of him, _causing him to miss the event completely due to broken ribs and a concussion. He had to believe that was Douchebag's fault- it was an over reaction! All he did was kidnap a dog and Wendy; hardly worth a gang beating with a metal bat. Douchebag had to have motivated them, and it made Eric all the more certain that something was _wrong _with the kid; that he was _hiding _something, _lying _about something.

His opinion softened for a little while, after the guy helped him rescue Mister Kitty from a crazy cat lady... but it wasn't long before he suspected that was all part of the plan to make him lower his guard. _Of course it was. _Everything was fucking _chess _with this fucker, and after _years _of attrition, he was finally showing his full hand.

_But then there was that apology this morning._

It was the only thing that made Eric hesitate, even a little. This morning, on the bus, after yet another episode of Douchebag being a fucking traitor and pulling almost everyone to go against Eric like he was the fucking worst human on the planet... the guy had written him a paper note and shoved it into his face. Eric hadn't wanted it at first; he'd literally swatted it away, too angry to even look at it. He was _done _with that guy, already trying to hatch up his next scheme...

Kyle had picked it up and read it aloud- a confession that Douchebag knew he'd been dickish, and he was sorry.

Eric still had that note, sloppily folded up and stuffed in his pocket.

_No one ever said sorry to him. _No matter how dirty they did him, the guys didn't apologize to him- and he wasn't supposed to want them to. Boys didn't apologize to each other. They got over shit by finding new ways to rip on each other and do the _alpha dog dominance _shit. He should have fucking dipped that notebook paper in gasoline and lit it on fire in front of Douchebag's face, and then grind the still-burning paper into the guy's stupid hippy hair.

Instead, he very much wanted to take it home and stuff it in the same shoe-box where he kept Cupid Me when he was being naughty.

That was the one and only reason he held up when Kyle barked out _"Wait!" _as he moved to go back into the community center. They had just seen students and teachers leave in a mass exodus; it would probably be the easier way to get the fuck out of here now, unless Butters was hiding a bolt cutter up his ass.

"You wanna fuckin' hang around for some brainless fuckwad to notice we're not part of the mob and drag us along against our will? _You wanna fucking join them?" _Eric pointed to the line of people that was still shambling past the fence, only mildly contained to the sidewalk. There were others joining them, too; people coming out of their houses from the neighborhood they called home, streaming into the streets... all with their phones in their hands. Quiet, for now, but the implication was clear; that video had gone out to everyone in South Park. For all they knew, Douchebag had gone and infected the _whole world _with whatever weird-ass influence abilities he had.

Influence that Eric himself had been under; Douchebag had shown up at the hospital after the whole _singing contest _thing and played a horrible noise from his phone. Something glitchy and garbled, and after Eric heard it... something changed. After the _screaming in the bathroom _incident, he'd been obsessive about exposing the guy, but whatever the guy had done to him at the hospital had changed that obsession into... _something else. _Douchebag had framed the whole thing as a truce, that he'd come to make peace, but Eric knew better- he knew the moment the guy had left, supposedly giving him some key information on his way out.

He claimed that he'd told Eric his actual name... and Eric remembered it, _but he couldn't bring himself to say it. _Not aloud, not in his head. It was a memory he was aware of, back at the very beginning when he'd first dubbed the kid Douchebag, and the guy had used his phone to type the name he wanted for the game. He _knew it, _but he couldn't _articulate _it, and it slipped away the second he wasn't forcing himself to actively recall that moment.

He was still holding it together, day to day- but if the crowd of people heading up the street were any example, Douchebag was getting more ambitious. There was no other way to frame it, even if the kid had meant well before, he _had _to have turned to the dark side at this point... _right?_

_There's no other explanation. He's a liar and a snake. None of us can trust him._

"Wendy sent us a message!" Kyle insisted.

"Who cares what the fuck _Stan's dick-warmer _sent you? It's probably a pic of her flappy-ass boobs!"

"Hey!" Butters recovered from his fearful state enough to push back at Eric, frowning at him. "Wendy's smart and she's saved the group's bacon more than once, so you show a little _respect, _Eric!"

"... _Jesus Tap-dancing Christ, _when did they get to you, Butters? There aren't any girls here, you don't have to watch your mouth or any of that crap- you know what, _whatever, _fine, we'll see whatever the hell _Wendy _sent us- but let's get inside? _Cover _sound like a good idea to anyone else?"

"Like there's enough cover in the world for _you, _fatass."

"_Ey-!" _

He shouted without meaning to, and found Butters's hand slapped over his face to prevent him from going any further in a retort.

"_H-hey, you're the one who told us to be quiet!" _Butters hissed. "Let's just... go inside, okay?"

Kyle pushed the door open, holding it for Eric and Butters to pass through and easing it closed behind them as he followed after. As Eric suspected, the room they entered into which had been full to bursting not even minutes ago was now eerily empty and quiet. No one had stayed behind; there were forgotten backpacks, and coats kids had taken off upon getting inside. Personal items were left in random heaps of stuff where different cliques had dumped their things in communal piles. No one had stopped to pick up their things once that signal came through... but how come the three of them hadn't been hit? Everyone in the zombie crowd had their phones out, which probably had something to do with it- Douchebag had _always _been most effective over the internet. Silently, Cartman resolved not to look at his, and to be ready to take out either Butters or Kyle if they showed any signs after checking their messages. He was _not _going to play around with this bullshit.

_Me against the world- just like always. I should be fucking used to it by now._

"_Okay, _let's take a look at this." Kyle announced, looking down at his phone and Butters crowding him to peer over his shoulder. Eric kept his distance, not wanting to see whatever was on the screen in case that was somehow part of whatever the fuck was going on. Not even bothering to be subtle, he checked around himself for any kind of blunt object he could use to fight back if his friends started acting funny. The nearest he could see was some kid's full backpack; hopefully that would be heavy enough to do some damage in a worst-case-scenario.

"_Hey everyone, if you're getting this message, it means I may be compromised." _

Eric blinked. It wasn't an electronic screech of doom... in fact, it was Wendy admitting to getting caught up in the danger. That was unexpected, perking curiosity... there as also _bragging rights _to think about if he managed to rescue Stan's bitch for him.

Wendy's voice went on, emitting from the speaker of Kyle's phone. _"Back when I helped develop the priming noise, I realized its potency could mean disaster if Dee... for lack of a better term, __**went rogue. **__And Dee, if you're snooping on my computer right now and you found this emergency protocol, __**please don't take it personally. **__I set this message to automatically send to the rest of the team if the frequencies associated with a priming noise were detected by my phone or computer, should I fail to press an all-clear button within five minutes. Until we have a better idea what is going on, I have the following advisories for the rest of the team:"_

Eric was slowly coming around at this point, creeping his way to Kyle's side to peer at the screen of his phone. He could see a video recording of Wendy in her room, wearing her _serious issues are serious _face that always made him roll his eyes.

Her recording continued on; _"Do not trust any message from me until my status has been confirmed. If Dee has seen fit to take control of me, they may be using that to spread false information through my network, or force me to use my abilities in ways I find unacceptable. Do not go onto social media, or use group chats- recommend an end-to-end encrypted chat like WhatsApp, and only use one-on-one chats. Pass information in chains, and set Dee's number to your ignore list. If possible, find ear protection; if you can get to my house, I have sound-blocking earmuffs in my closet, inside the pink toy chest and under the unicorn blanket. Finally, if any member of the group does not immediately check in, do not, repeat, DO NOT trust any digital communication from them until their status is confirmed in person." _

"_Jesus..." _Butters muttered lowly.

It appeared that was near the end of the message, but there was a cut. The view hadn't changed, and it was still Wendy... but she was now recording at night. Her room was dark, the light off, and she was wrapped up in blankets and surrounded by tissues, with a mug nearby; there was an addition to the video that had bee recorded more recently.

"_Addendum, as of..." _Wendy hazily checked her phone, looking to check the day. _"Early Sunday morning, technically. I have evidence that there may be other individuals with Dee's abilities, who also make use of priming noises. It's possible that Dee themselves may be compromised, and/or at risk for capture. This changes the plan of action; normal recommendation would be to get ear protection, find the group, and then try to locate and disable Dee, but there are new players on the board which make finding Dee a priority. **Do not waste time trying to find other members of the group or confirm their status. **Get ear protection, find Dee, and prevent them from being used or relocated. **Dee is not immune to priming noises, **so there is a possibility of them being under enemy control. Attempt to detain without doing major harm." _

There was a beat of silence in the video. Wendy closed her eyes tightly; it was clear she was exhausted, and maybe just a little scared.

"_I hope this message never goes out... but if it does? Good luck everyone." _

"Wow she uses a lotta fucking words to say '_Go get 'em', _doesn't she? Fuckin' Christ I almost needed an intermission in there."

"_Fuck you, _Eric, that was important!" Kyle turned, nearly bumping heads with him when he didn't realize how close he'd gotten to peek at the message. "Dee might not be behind this- he might be in danger; don't you _care?"_

"I care that he probably got to Wendy and made her record that extra bit to protect himself." Eric snorted, rolling his eyes. "I know you wanna see the best in your favorite dicklicker, Kyle, but just cause he gargles your balls like a pro doesn't make him a good guy. What _I _heard was _trust no one, gear up, seek and destroy, _and that's what I'm gonna do."

"You gotta admit, it _is _ little fishy, Kyle." Butters capitulated, wearing a guilty expression as he did so. "That Wendy just so _happened _to record a change to her warning message right before things went crazy that makes Dee s-smell like a rose. I don't wanna believe it, neither, but maybe we should _ready _for the worst and hope for the best."

"Meaning _what?" _Kyle demanded. "Literally the only difference Wendy suggested was to go for Dee _before _hooking up with the rest of the team. She's compromised, that means the only people missing are Kenny and Stan. Kenny was _with _Dee, and Stan is _sick! _And what are we gonna do if we _do _find them and they're all messed up like everyone else? _Beat 'em around until they come to their senses?"_

There was a moment of silence. Eric considered the suggestion as Butters looked sick to his stomach.

"I mean, you said it first." Eric finally stated dryly. "Better than nothing, I guess. Dunno why you gotta be so violent right out the gate, though."

"_I was being sarcastic you sack of unprocessed pork-butt!" _

"No, no, Kyle, it's your idea, you already said it. You can't just take it back by saying you were joking- _I'm not taking credit for it. _If you wanna beat around helpless brainwashed citizens until they can't function anymore, be my guest, I won't get in your-"

"_Would you guys quit it?!" _

Butters found his voice, and he used it to shout, loudly. It echoed in the empty room, and the force of it left him huffing after.

"Listen, I know you fellers butt heads a _lot- _more since the school year started up." Butters started, putting his hands out as if to signify Eric and Kyle, balling them into fists and knocking his knuckles together in a sort of impromptu visual aid. "'an I know Dee hasn't been helpin' all that much with the stuff he gets up to, and how he's gotta keep his mouth shut all the time or he'll make his friends go crazy without meanin' to, but at the end of the day of all the fightin' and feuding and ripping and _bullcrap- _can't you guys just _stop it _for a day and try to be there for your buddy? Cause today is scary, and there might be _big trouble _waiting for us out there, and I dunno if Dee has lost his marbles after all this time, or somebody nasty has taken control of him, or _what... _but we gotta do somethin', and we ain't gonna do it well if we're fightin' like this!"

Eric blinked. Multiple times. He swore, that was the kind of speech that really needed soaring music underneath; _this _is why he needed a bluetooth speaker everywhere he went. That was the sort of thing that _needed _a soundtrack...

"Butters..."

Just so he could add a record-scratch at the right moment.

"That... _was the gayest thing I've ever heard." _

_Punch in the side from Kyle in three... two..._

"... damnit, you're right."

_Wat?_

"I can behave myself if you can. Think we can keep it together, Cartman?"

Eric may not have gotten hit, but it sure as hell felt like a sucker punch. His jaw might have been hanging slack as he looked to Kyle to find the guy holding his hand out for a legit shake on it; like they were human beings who _respected _each other or some shit. He stared for a moment longer... and then reached out to take it, giving Kyle's hand a firm bob before letting go. "Alright... _yeah, _we can do this. Teamwork."

Butters audibly let go of a breath he'd been holding, deflating like a balloon. _"Oh thank you Jesus." _

"So... does that mean you're gonna let me in on this _team _Wendy was talking about? Sounded like you guys have been..." He clicked his tongue, sucking air between his teeth. _"Pretty _organized for a _long _while."

"Well, _not that long." _Butters answered without hesitation. "Me, Kyle, an' Stan only got officially included last Saturday... Wendy, Kenny, and Dee are the ones who've been working together for ages an' ages."

"_Butters." _Kyle hissed between clenched teeth.

"What?" Butters asked with wide eyes. "He's part of the team now!"

"That's right, _I am!" _Eric grinned, putting on a dewy, _saccharine _affect as he looked to Kyle's. _"Riiiiiiight?" _

Kyle looked as if he might swallow his tongue. "I... _just... meant... _we should move out. We can't just stand around _talking _all day."

"Of course!" Eric agreed readily, slipping an arm over Butters's shoulders. "You guys can just fill me on as we head over to Wendy's house to try and get those mufflers she mentioned. _Right, team-buddies?" _

"... _right." _Kyle sighed, the sound like his soul were trying to escape through his mouth.

Eric was nearly _skipping _as they headed for the door.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

Spending time in Eric's head is always... _interesting. _More so when it's been lightly scrambled for months.

_Mmm... scrambled eggs..._

ANYWHOOZLES, that's another chapter down!

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	5. Going Mobile

**::End Of The Line – Going Mobile::**

Wendy felt like a prisoner within her own body.

She was awake, _aware, _but she wasn't in control. She hadn't been since she'd played the video that had come in from Dee's number... but the video hadn't been of Dee. No, the first thing that had come through her phone's speaker had been a terrible, sharp noise that burrowed into her ears and left her unable to move or think. She'd been frozen in her office chair as her brain registered _pain, panic, _and _fear... _and then a face finally appeared on her phone, but it wasn't Dee's... or rather it _was, _but with about fifty years added on.

_It was Marie._

The first time she'd seen this face, it had been in a shitty scan of a driver's license photo she'd found after doing some digging on a rented truck's plates; mostly blurry and in black and white because _someone _at the U-STOR-IT didn't know how to use their scanner. Now she was looking at the woman in full color with all the sharpness today's smartphones could provide... and her voice was coming through loud and clear.

"_You will forward this message to everyone on your contacts list who lives in South Park. You will go to the South Park Mall. If you encounter Dee, you will capture them and show them this video. You will not listen to Dee, or anything they tell you to do. If you are Dee, you will not struggle. You will not fight. You will submit. You will go to the South Park Mall, and await further instruction." _

A series of statements; clear and simple. The moment the message ended, Wendy found herself complying with the first one outside of her own will. _She didn't want to forward the message, _but her thumbs were already completing the task of sending the message on to nearly everyone in her phone's contact list. It was horrifying- where the interactive game of life she'd been playing up until this point became an unskippable cutscene wherein she was doing something _she would never fucking do _if she were in control.

She wanted to fight back, but she couldn't figure out _how. _Messages sent, she was suddenly upright; out of her chair and not even bothering to change out of her pajamas. Leaving her cocoon of pillows and blankets behind, she was little more than a passenger as her body walked itself out of her room, down the stairs, and right out the door with only a pause to put shoes on over her socked feet; none of which she was in control of, despite desperately trying to stiffen joints and somehow _pull her own person back from moving forward._

It was at that point that she stopped panicking enough to realize exactly what was going on. That sharp electronic scream that had come out of her phone... it was much _cleaner, _but it was a priming noise, just like the rough ones she had helped Dee come up with to better channel her abilities in meatspace... and like Dee's, there could be commands built into the noise itself before the main body of the video even played. Marie must have had _years _to practice the process of making them by now, able to tailor them down to get exactly the reaction she wanted; commands with near surgical precision, deployable at a global scale.

Wendy supposed she had to be grateful that Marie was _only _targeting South Park residents... and that the priming noise itself probably had something built into it for preventing harm of individuals, if her body's stop at the door to put on shoes and eventually a coat were any indication. It wasn't _her _coat, just the first one her hand landed on- she recognized it as the coat her dad wore when his every-day coat wasn't nice enough; a gray windbreaker that was more _stylish _than warm, but she was thankful for it all the same as her hands opened the door and she was suddenly outside in the cold.

Her lungs didn't want to breath the freezing air. They ached, and she was reminded by sheer force of _being upright and active _that she was still _fucking sick._

_Wait a minute..._

_Isn't **that** a threat? You don't want me to go outside without shoes on, certainly you don't want me walking all the way to the mall when I'm sick, right? I'm not in good health! I shouldn't be doing this!_

Wendy's effort to fight her own movement so far had been toothless. Like trying to find something to dig her fingers into, but faced with a wall made of glass. With that thought, however?

She felt like she'd found a crack. A teeny-tiny vector upon which she could wrench back _some trace _of body hesitated, arrested for a moment on the front stoop of her house.

_That's right! Being out in the cold will make it worse; it might even kill me!_

That was... a stretch, and she knew it. At _worst _she had some kind of viral yuk. She hadn't been bad enough to take to the doctor just yet; just a mild fever, lethargy, and more phlegm than one could shake a stick at... but she tried not to think about that. She had to assume she was at war with her own mind, her own assessment of personal risk, and she _had to believe _that going outside and walking in the cold would harm her in a _real and immediate way._

Sadly, she wasn't good at lying to herself, and she knew full well that the worst a few hours outside would do to her would be possibly development into bronchitis, _maybe pneumonia_, and that would take at least a day or two to set in... and be fully treatable. The bug she was carrying was _not _going to kill her the moment she stepped out into the snow; she was well-fed, white, middle class kid with reasonable access to medical care.

The hesitation passed, and her body started moving again.

_Fuck._

* * *

Buttlord was frozen, leaned slightly forward on the couch but able to inch no further nor relax back. Her hood blocked her peripheral vision; she didn't know if Mysterion and Kartwright were the same, but she sensed no motion at either side and assumed they, like her, were stuck. Even in front of her, standing at the ready to explain about the machine that Marie had built, Morgan was frozen in place; each of them held hostage by the horrible sound from the basement, however distant and muffled it was.

_Must be a different sound- the one Marie was using before was just a primer; it didn't have any embedded commands. This one has a stop in it; stop everything, keep breathing, instruction to follow- _

Buttlord blinked. She wasn't sure how she knew it, but she did; that she was awaiting orders of some kind, holding out for direction. She felt like she was frozen, and would remain that way until _someone _told her what to do instead.

_NO! _

She'd been held by Marie before, and she learned something valuable during that previous experience; how to _resist- _how to break down that full-body seize into bits and pieces, from a single invisible monster constricting her body into a number of tiny little ones that could be individually fought off until enough of her was _free _and the rest scattered. She drew her mind down to her hand, and focused her body on the flexing of her fingers; to open up her clenched knuckles and draw them away from the knee she'd been clutching while Morgan had been going _on and on _about shit in his dulcet tones.

A shudder, a shake, and then freedom. One part of her invisible cask broke, and the rest shattered in turn.

In the basement, the sound cut off. Something else replaced it, muffled; unintelligible as far as words went but certainly a _voice. _

She had a terrible feeling about that.

"_Fuck!" _Kartwright swore viciously, and lurched forward from the couch in a sudden movement, one that made Buttlord reach out for her and catch her before she go face-first to the floor. That possible bloody nose averted, the pair of them faced their not-so-resistant company, still frozen like mall mannequins.

"... any ideas for these two?" Haley asked lowly, nearly a whisper. Clumsy words could be mistaken as an order for a freshly primed person; neither of them wanted to do something _damaging _at a moment like this.

"... yeah, actually." Buttlord muttered back. She released the doctor as the woman stood up on her own two feet, while remembering another thing she'd recently learned while fighting back against Marie's influences.

When she'd gone back in time to prevent Kartwright's death, she'd been creeping outside the cabin where her elder self had been living, waiting for Marie to _leave _so she could then go instead and do what she needed to do. During that time, she'd caught a priming noise, much like the one that had screamed out from her basement, and then a command to _hold still. _In the process of fighting it, the part of herself she'd focused on had been her middle finger, which had been directed at the sky. At the time, she'd had a fleeting thought about flipping off whatever higher power allowed this mess to happen- a thought that she'd found funny enough to have a little giggle about inside her head, despite the situation.

The moment she stopped feeling angry and hurt, the moment she'd been able to _laugh, _she'd been free. She hadn't needed to fight the control; it _broke. _

Standing before Mysterion and Morgan, the pair of them recently primed and frozen, it was time to test a theory.

"Think of the funniest thing you can remember." She commanded them.

There was a pause. She felt her pulse thudding in her chest as she wondered if it was just a coincidence; maybe it _hadn't _been the laugh that had broken her free, and she'd just gotten free faster than she'd expected that time around. Doubt made her cringe, jaw clenching, but she held her ground rather than immediately admit defeat.

On the couch, Mysterion snickered. A second later, he doubled over. Morgan's body bent, and then he was clutching himself while letting out a belly-laugh.

_Jizz on the Good Friday agreement, it fucking worked!_

"W-where did you pick up that trick?" Mysterion asked as he recovered himself, still wearing a half-smile. Buttlord might have asked him what memory had come to mind, but...

"No time." Kartwright barked before Buttlord could say as much. "Here, I brought a little gift for the party... these might come in handy before you two go down there and see what that noise was about."

Turning to her elder self, she had fished a number of little blue plastic boxes out of her pocket. Within? Bright yellow earplugs. They weren't exactly _industrial grade, _but they were ear protection... but where had she...?

"_Borrowed _them off the police force. Yates wanted to be the _big bad-ass police man _and show off the gun range before we came here; these were just laying out." Kartwright smirked.

_Never underestimate our ability to pick up unguarded bits and pieces. That is why I am the queen of lost couch coins. _

Buttlord traded a glance with Mysterion, sharing a nod. Their breather was over. Both took the seconds necessary to squish down the little pellets of semi-hard foam into their ears. Once they were in, the only sounds she was aware of were things like the faint thud of her own heartbeat or the sound of her breathing. Externally she could see Mysterion was saying something to Kartwright and Morgan, who had since recovered from whatever funny instance she'd gotten _him _to remember. Both the adults were wearing sober looks, nodding in agreement with whatever Mysterion said, and getting a move on. Morgan went straight for the door, and Kartwright made only a brief stop to grab something from the set of hooks hung on the wall in the living room; her father's car keys.

_Oh Mysterion, you glorious bastard... always a few steps ahead. _

The pair of them went straight for the basement door, with Mysterion in the lead- it was habit for him to enter a situation first. If something _lethal _happened to him, she could _undo _it or _run. _

Descending into the basement was quick, and the pair of them hit the bottom landing within seconds. A smart turn to where they'd left Eric and her father led to seeing the pair of them still there, but now standing up. Her dad had his cellphone out, but he wasn't actively looking at it. It was just in his hand. When they came down, both he and Eric looked at them, and their eyes were... wide, glassy, with the sort of quality that they were not looking _at _them but _past _them in a sort of dazed, thousand-yard stare.

She knew that look. It was the wide-eyed stare Agent Russel had given her _right before his brain ate its own ass enough to drive the man insane... _only unlike Agent Short-Stack, this was _sustained. _Russel had worn that look for only a split second before his head had lolled back and he'd gone into some kind of seizure; Eric and her father appeared stable, for the moment.

Stable, and focused on _her, _she realized. They weren't looking at both the heroes in the room; their strange, glassy eyes had focused exclusively on her.

"_Think of the funniest thing you can remember!" _

She'd meant to just say it, but she was fairly certain she'd actually ended up _shouting _it at the pair of men; it had worked for everyone upstairs, why not here? They'd recently been primed, and according to Morgan, Marie wasn't even at _full power- _maybe her commands could beat out whatever the fuck her _evil old lady _version had set up via whatever online vector she'd finally decided to use.

At first, she thought she'd done something. Her father's eyes focused on her, and the man blinked a few times. Excitement bubbled up; she could fight back!

That excitement quickly died when he started walking towards her. He wasn't saying anything. Dad had been scared and inquisitive all morning, asking questions and double checking everything- she was certain that if she _had _fixed him, he'd be asking what was going on... but his mouth wasn't moving. No, he was reaching out with one hand, and the other was still holding his phone, turning the screen towards her like he intended to show her something once he had a hold of her.

There was no space to question why it didn't work. Eric was coming in as back-up; also with his hands out, ready to _grab and restrain. _

Buttlord smacked away her father's outreaching hand, stepping backwards to retreat back up the stairs. Mysterion had surged ahead, however, making a leap past her father to take on Eric, the big guy going down so fast his head might have hit the floor before the rest of him. With her father refusing to back off when she refused his hand, she was forced to act further; kicking forward and nailing him in the gut with her shoulder, terrified adrenaline hitting her system as her father tripped over Eric's bulk and fell on his ass on the hard concrete. Mysterion, always ready, seized the man's cellphone before serving him a sharp knee to the chest that sent him the rest of the way down to the floor.

Neither of them were knocked out, but what they'd done will give them enough space to get out of the house before either of them would be able to give chase.

Buttlord tried to swallow her heart out of her throat and back into her chest where it belonged, but nothing could get the horrified drum-beat out of her ears. Turning to run up the stairs, she took them two at a time and slammed the door shut once Mysterion was past her. Thinking quickly, she ran across to the nearby dining area to seize a chair and lean it up against the door, wedging the back of it against the knob in hopes of keeping both of them down there... either until she could _undo this _or until it was over. She wasn't sure which way things would go right now, and there wasn't space to think about it. Mysterion was pulling on her elbow, urging her on with him as he bolted for the front door.

Outside, Kartwright was waiting for them, at the wheel of her father's green minivan, and Morgan in the passenger seat. The vehicle was turned around in the driveway and ready to go, the rear passenger door hanging open for them... which was good, because they were decidedly _not alone _on the street.

There were at least a dozen adults, and a smattering of children; all walking in the same direction and only some bothering with the sidewalk... all with the same _glazed over _look in their eyes and smartphones in their hands.

_Char broiled Christmas elves served up on Thanksgiving, **fuck my entire life.**_

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

Hey friends! It's been a couple days... that's because Pokemon. I picked up Sword a couple days ago and have been enjoying it a great deal as a little bit of break time. I'm not _quite _done with the game yet, so updates might be a touch slow in the near future as I get my gaming fix in... but hopefully that won't last for too long.

_ALSO GENERAL HEADS UP! _The hubby is returning home soon. Can't say dates because the whole _loose lips sink ships _thing, but the point is that the author will be _very distracted _in the near-ish future... so... HOPEFULLY I can finish this story before that happens, but if I don't, and I poof for a bit, understand that I am welcoming my lovely back from a long and shitty deployment, and we both need time to love on each other and get used to cohabitation again.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	6. Shifts On Shifts

**::End Of The Line – Shifts on Shifts::**

Dive-bombing into her father's green minivan and yanking the rear passenger door shut asKartwright put the vehicle into motion was an act of horrified self-preservation. Buttlord had no idea what was doing on... or rather, she had _some _idea, and she didn't like any of it.

That noise they had heard was one of Marie's- a priming noise that had gotten to her father and Eric somehow; probably a viral post, considering her dad had his phone in his hand. Same with the people outside on the street; people Kartwright was now avoiding by wrenching at the wheel and swerving this way and that way to get past while getting the group of them on the move and away from the house, causing herself and Mysterion to cling for all dear life to the middle bench of the van while neither of them were either seated nor secured by seat belts.

Had Marie decided to escalate things, and put something out onto the internet that triggered people to come hunt her down?

_Was the whole world out to get her right now? _

The horror of that idea kept her frozen, kneeling on the floor of the van long after the ride smoothed out. It wasn't until Mysterion tugged her up to the bench seat that she escaped that dread enough to fumble her hands and buckle a seat belt... following up with flipping her hood back, pushing her hard mask up to her forehead to hold back the frizzy and curly mess that was her hair, and pulling the earplugs out of her ears. That last step was the one that really made her feel like the current moment was _real, _and not just a nightmare. The engine noise grounded her, and she managed to take a deep breath to soothe her heartbeat out of her skull.

"What happened?" Kartwright asked from the driver's seat, and Dee looked up to catch the doctor's eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Where's Chris and Eric?"

"I couldn't break the control on them." Dee responded. "I tried, but... it didn't do anything."

"If Marie's used to surviving on low power, she's probably used to operating with finesse." Mysterion- no, no, he'd broke character, too. He wasn't speaking in that rough voice he used while in costume, but with his regular tone as _Kenny. _A glance over showed Dee that he'd also taking a second to slide back his hood and pull off the fabric mask he'd been wearing for _hours _at this point. He'd been wearing it long enough that the texture of the fabric had been imprinted on the freckled bridge of his nose. "This is clearly escalation; she must have realized that Eric going missing without a trace wasn't a coincidence."

"Why bother with kid gloves in the first place if she could do _this?" _Kartwright quested, making a sudden swerve again, handily dodging around an adult Dee recognized as Bebe's mom. "Everything's been _secret _and _careful _up to this point- she even went to the trouble of setting _me _up as a patsy to send you kids off the wrong trail. If she's had a direct route to get shit done this entire time, why the _fuck _would she bother with being careful? _That's not like us." _

"... it is when we're scared of something."

Dee offered up that observation quietly, and Kartwright opened her mouth to say something back... and then stopped herself.

"Lyssie?" Kenny quested, reaching across to her. His hand on her arm helped her calm down a little bit, pulling in the kind of long and slow breath that opened up the lungs and felt like it washed out some of the shit when it was let go.

"We're direct." She continued her assessment of herself, analyzing Marie's behavior in that context. "We like to fight. We like to cut through the shit and get things done, fast and dirty because clean and careful means _slowing down _and we're not so great with that... _right up until we're scared. _And why not? We've spent our lives running. Kartwright more than me, and I bet Marie woulda ran if she could, but we all _grew up _scared, and ready to sprint away at the first sign of really _real _trouble. We're stubborn, and we fight till we're bloody... but when we know we're _fucked? _We _wanna ditch." _

She had to fight that instinct a lot lately. That instinct to _pick a direction, start running, and not stop. _It was always _there, _part of that tightly wound spring curled around her spine that had been keeping her awake at night until she gave into exhaustion. Sure, she'd had a... stupidly brave moment or two in the last couple of months, but that was usually cause she had someone with her, and ditching out would have meant ditching a _friend. _Running to save herself was easy, but running when it would screw someone she knew? _That _was blasphemy.

"But we _don't _when someone we care about is on the line. Then we figure out something else. Find another route, find another plan of attack, _solve the puzzle- _we're _too stubborn _so we _find another way._"

"So who does _she _care about?" Kartwright quested. "You don't think she's still hung up on _Eric? _Fucker stabbed her in the back, and then changed into that fat lard we left back there. He ain't any kind of catch, and the bitch has probably been working with him long enough to know that."

"But he's caught between timelines." Kenny threw in. "Maybe she's trying to save the old version of him? The one she cared about? But... if that was her goal, why not just _walk up to the current Eric Cartman _and command him to get his shit together and not do drugs? She's mighta gotten her ass mostly depowered, but she still has enough in her to do some _serious brain dicking." _

Quietly, the fourth member of their party cleared his throat. Dee had nearly forgotten the man was there, he'd been so silent.

"I do believe... that I was interrupted."

"_You." _

Reminded, Dee was not happy that he was here. No, she was sick of him. Getting away from the house had not been a sure thing, and without Kartwright having sticky fingers that just so happened to pick up some ear protection, _could have gone horribly, _and they never would have gotten the most important information out of the guy.

She didn't care about what else he could tell them about Marie, about her motivations, or what happened to her, or the machine she built. No, she cared about _one _thing, and one thing only- the answer to the question they'd started on.

Despite the vehicle still being in motion, she unbuckled her seat belt and came forward into the front of the van, one hand clawing into the side of the passenger seat while the other came across to grasp the old man by the front of his shirt. She was vaguely aware of Kenny staring at her, and Kartwright shooting her a glance before returning her eyes to the road. Didn't matter; they could judge her later. She wasn't going to leave time for some other bullshit to happen and get in the way.

"No more stories. No more long-winded explanations. Get to the _fucking _point- _why shouldn't we just shoot Marie in the face and be done with this raging rat orgy of a mess?" _

It was the first thing he'd told them, but he hadn't said why. No, he'd gone the long way around, providing a lot of other answers along the way... but none of that shit was _helpful. _They needed to know what to _do _about Marie; how to end this nightmare.

Morgan didn't blink. He remained calm, even faced with the enraged snarl on Dee's face that was ready to rip him to pieces.

"Because of the improbability of your existence." He answered sagely. "You three are a chain reaction, each leading to the next. Marie caused Haley's childhood to change, and the universe was shifted, and Haley _and _Marie altered your childhood, and again this universe shifted instead of splitting. Your _reality_, the product of interference of _two _of your alternate selves, is laden with incredibly improbable events that stretch time itself to the limits of what it can allow, much less _wants _to allow. Just like an anchor helps hold a paradox's loop in place, preventing its collapse, Marie and Haley hold _your incredibly unlikely reality _together in a single piece."

"Wait, _what?" _Kartwright quested, though Dee didn't turn her head to look at the woman. "Are you saying we gotta _stay here? _We're duplicates, that doesn't make any sense, we have our own futures to get back to."

"Of course." Morgan agreed. "But which universe is yours?" He quested pointedly. "Or _Marie's?_ The one she remembers, or the one it became when Eric made contact with himself? Her universe _became _yours, and then your universe _became _Alyssa's. _There's three of you woven into a single version of existence." _

There was a beat of silence. Dee hadn't backed down from glowering down at Morgan, but she had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her experiences with duplication were varied, but one thing generally remained true- when she ran into temporally displaced copies of herself, _they didn't get along. _She still didn't know _why _that was, but she was willing to bet Kartwright did... if only for her tone of voice when she did finally speak.

"... that's not how it works." Kartwright muttered lowly, even a small voice warbling with a faint tremor. "Three versions with one future, we should be trying to kill each other with all the desperation of life-or-death survival. That's how it always gets narrowed down when we run into ourselves and one has nowhere to go. Either something is _horrifically wrong _with time itself, or... a_ll of our futures still have the possibility of existing." _

"... the _fuck _does that mean?" Kenny quested from the middle bench of the van.

Dee refused to allow another sidetrack. "_I don't care. _What the fuck do we do about Marie, then? We can't get rid of her until her future settles the fuck down, how the _clit-licking hell_ do we _make _it settle the fuck down?"

"Eric. He's been the key to this whole thing." Kenny chimed in, getting on Dee's more proactive track. "... but _our _Eric is just as much a sack of shit as Haley's, and he hasn't showed many signs of changing that... and if he _does _settle on a life path, that doesn't really bring back any of the old timelines; it's just a new version of the shift that belongs to Alyssa- what we need to do is find a way to _untangle _the three of you."

"Split us up without collapsing the whole damn thing." Kartwright considered, the very idea making her sound more than a little dazed. "How the _kipper-kissing fuck _do we do tha—aa_aAAH __**FUCK!" **_

The van came to a sudden stop, one that made Dee shift her grip from Morgan freeman's sweater to suspending herself between the two front seats and keeping herself from launching forward into the dashboard. From behind, she felt Kenny suddenly grab onto the long black coat that was signature to the Buttlord costume, scrabbling at the fabric until he got actual hold of her hips to help stop her forward momentum and pull her back into the rear of the vehicle. The breaks squealed slightly in protest of the sudden stop, but the reason for it was evident with a glance out the front window.

There was a wall of people in their way.

A quick assessment of where they were told Dee which way Kartwright had gone when she'd turned out of the drive and gotten moving; towards the bus stop, and then north to get up to the business district. Whatever the intent with that course had been, it appeared to be moot; the street was too swarmed to drive through without _running people down. _

More people with glassy eyes, smart phones in their hands, and all moving in the same direction... including a bulk of _kids. _Dee recognized a number of people from school; Craig, Tweek, Clyde, Token, Jimmy... Henrietta and her crew, Red, Annie, Bebe- even some teachers were mixed into the student group, standing out by height alone and obviously not there to supervise.

"... did she take over the whole town?" Kenny muttered softly. "_... what the hell did she send out? _Where are they going?"

"She wanted to fix the lab." Kartwright observed, watching as the comparatively small groupings of people she'd driven around previously began to catch up and pass by the stopped vehicle, joining the crowd ahead of them that was flooding the street. Upon hitting the intersection for the business district, the crowd pulled a sharp right, looking almost like marchers in a parade following a route... but without all the celebration and costumes. "Lotta hands make little work, or so the saying goes... and that is a _fuck-ton _of hands."

Dee had lapsed back into silence, looking at the mass of humanity. This was very quickly becoming a problem she couldn't punch into submission. People were coming from all over town; exiting businesses, the neighborhood, and funneling into the central throng. She'd almost say it looked like one of South Park's mobs or riots, only there was no shouting or signs or makeshift torches fashioned out of plungers and rolls of paper towels. There was no _outrage _in what was happening here, just... _silent compliance. _

The idea that a version of herself had done this made her feel quite sick.

Kenny still had hold of her. He'd pulled her far enough back that she'd sat back down on the bench, but her body hadn't relaxed into the padded seat that had been home to many a traveling nap. No, she was tense and sat forward, and his hands were rested on her, one on her back, the other atop her leg, while he also stared out at the scene beyond the glass.

"What the- _is that... Eric?" _

All at once, he was tense and half-lifted off of the seat as well. Dee blinked as she glanced at him, following his line-of-sight until...

_Baby Jesus suckling at the magnificent tits of the virgin Mary, **Cartman!**_

The shock of seeing Cartman was not so much that he was _there- _the entire student body of the middle school was present and accounted for. The shock of seeing their favorite overweight asshole was the fact that he _wasn't _following the crowd... and he wasn't alone.

No, Kyle was with him, as was Butters. The three of them were moving quickly, purposefully, cutting through a thin section of the crowd and hurrying back towards the neighborhood. They weren't like the others, who lacked expression beyond their thousand-yard stares. No, they were engaged, and _freaked the fuck out._

_Rightfully so. _

There was no discussion. Dee was pulling her mask back down, and her hood back up, and a glance to her partner told her that he had done the same. They were Mysterion and Buttlord once more, and they were heading back out.

"Wait, _what are you-!?" _

Kartwright had twisted backwards to shout at them, but it was too late. The sliding panel door for passengers was already open, and the pair of them had already made the flying leap out of the vehicle to chase after the trio of their, apparently, unaffected friends.

Really, Buttlord never thought she'd be so thankful to see Cartman's fucking mug in a crowd.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

A short chapter, but an important transition out of exposition and back into the action. We've got shit to do, places to be, and Morgan can't narrate it all for us with his velvety, glorious voice.

I mean, he _can, _but that's hardly any fun now is it?

Counting down the days until hubby comes home. The anxiety is real my friends, but I'm doing my best to breathe.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	7. Memory Void

**::End Of The Line – Memory Void::**

Rushing away from her father's van, Buttlord followed Mysterion's much more agile lead in dodging around dazed pedestrians as they went after the group of boys they'd spied in the mindless throng. Kartwright had called after them, but they didn't hesitate or turn back from their path.

"_Kyle! Butters! Eric, over here!"_

Mysterion shouted out for their friends, and the trio all came to a sudden halt in a way that caused Butters to get briefly squished between Kyle, in the lead, and Cartman, in the back. Once they'd sorted themselves out, heads twisted, and Kyle was the first to shout back.

"_You guys! _You're okay?!"

Relief flooded her. Buttlord had been scared that they'd somehow been mistaken; that this specific trio _were _under Marie's sway, but just had a different and more motivated mission drilled into their brains. To see them fully aware and responsive was something that caused her to surge forward, covering those last few yards of space at a sprint, ahead of Mysterion, fully intending to grab Butters specifically in a hug that was grateful to the universe that their brains hadn't been scrambled. Hell, she might have even let Cartman into her personal space, she was so happy to know her friend group wasn't wearing the disturbing thousand yard stare of the others on the street.

She was forced to skid on her heels when Cartman jumped forward, getting between her and his companions, wearing a look like he was ready to take her on. He'd bent slightly, taking on what some athletic persons might have called a _ready _position with knees soft and his center of gravity lowered by way of his upper body hunching forward while hips moved back- not _just posturing, _actually ready to roadblock her and tackle her down.

"_Don't you DARE!" _Cartman barked out, fists balled and arms half-bent, prepared to grapple as she stopped just outside his reach. "We already got Wendy's warning message, _Douchelord, _and if I see you go for your fucking phone _I will end you right h'near!" _

"Warning message?" Mysterion had arrived behind her, voicing a question she was asking in her head. Looking past Eric, she could see both Kyle and Butters looked uncertain about his actions... but they also weren't trying to force their way around him to unite their groups despite him. No, there was just a touch of _doubt- _enough to make them hesitate. "What the hell are you talking about? We don't have time for this!"

"Wendy's been—" Butters began, but he was cut off.

"_The fucking chick on your team was too fucking smart for your scrotum-sniffers, and had a message ready to go in case Douchebag ever took control of her!" _Eric proclaimed. "It was pretty fuckin' slick of you Assmaster, I gotta admit, to make her edit that last bit in- about someone else being around with your powers, but I don't believe that shit for a second. _You did this, _and whatever the hell you're trying to do to my town? _I'm gonna fucking bury you for it." _

"_There __**is **__someone else with his powers!" _Mysterion nearly roared. "We're dealing with an alternate-universe future version of Buttlord that knows how to milk every ounce of control out of their abilities- they're the one who did this to the town, and the one rebuilding the lab!"

"_Don't listen to him!" _Cartman crowed to Butters and Kyle. "Buttlord probably has Mysterion under his fucking spell, too- you're fucking _sick _man, manipulating and lying to _everyone- _but I'm not as dumb as them. I see through your shit; _you're not gonna get away with this. I won't let you." _

"Eric, what if he's telling the truth?" Butters cried, trying to sneak his way out from behind Cartman but getting elbowed back by the bigger boy. Buttlord watched as Eric refused to budge, entirely _self righteous _as he made himself a bulwark with no greater purpose besides _wasting time. _

"Don't fall for it, Butters- you're better than that." Cartman coached, still keeping his eyes forward. The two of them were locked together in that regard; Buttlord's fierce greens against Eric's baby-blues. "Buttlord is nothing but a fuckin' _liar _who has it out for _all of us- _he's done nothing _but _lie to us since the fuckin' day he _moved here." _

The accusation made her bristle behind the mask. A _liar? _Maybe by omission; when she first moved to South Park she'd still been in constant mute mode. She didn't talk to _anyone _back then, save after throwing the stick into Stark's Pond after that first game they all played, and the occasional trolling of Cartman at the bus-stop. This year had seen an explosion in articulation, and ever since she'd started speaking on a somewhat regular basis? She'd thought about doing the deceptive thing a few times... and she'd _stretched _the truth more than once, but outright _lied to her friends? _

Not even Eric had received that offense, and the accusation made her want to punch him into next week.

"Buttlord, _don't." _

Mysterion was reading her mind again... that or he just saw her fists clench. He could tell she was ready to take the invitation expressed by Eric's body language and fight him. The brainwashed randos weren't bothering them- they walked past without a second glance... and she felt perfectly justified in her desire to slam Eric's face down into the road to make him _eat asphalt._

"Don't _what?" _Cartman taunted. "C'mon, Assmaster, you've never hesitated to hit me before! You stab me in the back the first chance you get, _every single time- _or are you worried that if you fight me right now, you'll just show our friends how much of a _two-faced shit-stain _you really are? You're the one who wanted to keep our fights between us, without our friends getting in the middle- well here's your chance: _I fucking dare you!" _

"We don't have time for this." Mysterion insisted from her side. She could feel his hand on her shoulder, but the contact felt less like a real sensation and more like the dim memory of one. "Let's just _go." _

"_Ooooh, _sure! Just _abandon _us to the chaos _you _created!" Cartman goaded. "Or, here's a fucking _new _idea, Fartlord- _tell the truth! For fucking once, tell the fucking truth! __**Tell our friends how you lied to me the day you moved to town, and tried to force me to believe it!" **_

"Eric, what the _fuck _are you talking about?" Kyle demanded.

"Kenny was there." Eric continued. "Butters, you were too. The day Douchebag moved to town, and we first played, _and I asked him for his name. _He used his phone, typed it up and gave it to me- _he lied to me- _and then he tried to make me swallow it. After the homecoming dance- he came to the hospital. He played one of those _fucking noises _from his _fucking phone _and tried to make me keep it- _and now I can't even think it to myself! I KNOW IT'S THERE, I KNOW IT'S WRONG, AND HE FUCKED MY HEAD BECAUSE HE'S A LIAR WHO DIDN'T WANT ME TO TELL!" _

She felt it; like a punch to the gut. Air rushed out of her lungs like it had been physically knocked out of her. _That _was what all this was about?

… _I integrated a command into the priming noise, that he wouldn't be able to tell anyone what my name was. I told him it was my name, but made him unable to hold onto the memory-_

Aggression flowed out of her, traded for numb shock. The intent with that exchange had been mutually assured destruction- that was back when her name, _her real name,_ getting out would have meant the _end _of her family's freedom. It was a trick; informing him that she'd told him her real name when she came to town, but using the priming noise to make him incapable of saying it, writing it down, or otherwise conveying it to anyone... the point had been to give him something _he couldn't actually use _while locking him into a _direct conflict _agreement that left their friends out of their bullshit.

But apparently she hadn't designed it right... and she could see the unhinged madness on his face as he _bellowed _at her.

_I did it wrong. This isn't just Eric being Eric._

She saw him winding up. She saw the incoming swing. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.

_I did this to him._

Reality rushed back in when his fist hit her face. She heard everyone around her shouting, saw Kyle and Butters trying to dive in and yank Cartman off of her. Mysterion was at the edge of her vision, trying to force his way between them. She felt Eric's hands seize on her after he finished his swing, one coming back to grip the front of her coat. Her hood had shifted backwards, and his surprisingly sharp fingernails scratched at her face while his other hand grasped her hard-mask.

The shaped cover she used to hide her face was viciously yanked away as Butters looped both of his arms around Eric's elbow, trying to yank him off but instead helping the boy as he pulled at the mask, until such time as the elastic strap that held it on her face _snapped _and it went flying away with the sudden release of force. Her hood fell the rest of the way back.

"What the _fuck, _Cartman?!"

Mysterion finally forced his way in, shoving Eric back as she stumbled away.

_**I fucked up.**_

It was her worst fear in relation to her abilities- _she'd harmed one of her friends. _She watched as Cartman was shoved backwards by Mysterion while Kyle and Butters drug him back to the sidewalk, still holding eye contact with the guy while her jaw slacked. Was this the result of her contradictory command, where she'd reminded him of her name while also making it impossible for him to hold onto it long enough to tell anyone? Or did this go back further, to when she'd _yelled _at him in the boys bathroom near the beginning of the year? Had she triggered _obsession _in him, like she had done accidentally to so many others when she'd still been a little kid?

Had this been developing for years, because she couldn't _keep her fucking mouth shut?_

She felt a hand grasp her shoulder from behind. It wasn't any of her friends; they were all in front of her. Cartman was yelling, projecting noise without shaping it into words, while trying to break free, all while every boy in the knot tried to get him to stop in their own way; Kyle and Mysterion trying to shout him down while Butters attempted to soothe, all of it coming together in a discordant sour cacophony of overlapping voices. The hand was larger- an adult's? Had Kartwright abandoned the van to come grab her?

She blinked, looking up.

It wasn't Kartwright. It was... Stephen Stotch- Butters's dad; but the man wasn't here to ground his son for cutting school.

No, like everyone else out on the street, he wore a dazed expression that had managed to focus in _just _enough to remind her that something had changed.

Her mask was off. Her hood was back. _Her face was showing._

_She was identifiable as herself._

Another set of hands seized on her, and her head snapped the other way to find her arm grasped by another adult. Worse, that specific adult? _Heidi's _dad- possibly the biggest meathead on the block outside of the PC Super himself. Between the two of them, she was lifted clear off of her feet, kicking at the air when she lost contact with the ground.

Eyes went back to the group of fighting boys. Eric was the only one who was looking at her, _and he wasn't saying anything. _He was simply staring on with wide eyes, having suddenly gone quiet, like what he was seeing didn't compute with whatever he'd convinced himself of. His suddenly going still seemed to be something the others found even more distressing than the original confrontation, though, and he remained the center of attention.

Mr. Turner was only holding her up with one hand- she saw the other moving in from the edge of her panicked vision; no doubt coming in to cover her mouth.

Twisting her head away, she pursed her lips to let out a shrill whistle.

A second later, she was cut off. Someone else had moved in- she was pretty sure it had been Jimmy's mom, but she was caring less and less about identifying individuals as she realized _she was getting mobbed. _Arms restrained, mouth covered, and now the group was beginning to _move _as she swung her body and tried to kick out at anyone getting close. The body in front of her was first, as she landed a foot on the woman's chest and pushed off with all the core strength she had, spending her sprawling back on the faintly slushy road... but someone was right behind her, ready to move in and trying to grab at her as she twisted herself and tried to free her arms from the grasp of the men on either side of her.

Both were gripping her hard, Mr. Turner to the point that she was actually starting to go numb past where he'd gotten her at the bicep. Mr. Stotch, on the other hand, had a weaker grip that made her pull her knees in and try to twist her torso in his direction, forcing her boot against the man's hip before pushing outwards and digging her heel in at the soft spot that was probably even with his kidney. The man stumbled, and the clump of people she was contained within came to a halt. Anchored by one foot hard against Stephen's person, she found the right moment to swing the other leg across and slam her knee into his body, all while _biting viciously _at Mr. Turner's hand over her mouth.

Mr. Stotch let out a faint _oof, _and his hand loosened just enough for her arm to slip free. A foot was allowed to make contact with the ground again, but she was still strung up on one side by Heidi's dad, who had not released nor flinched away... and she was vaguely aware of more figures at the edges of her vision. All the randos who had ignored her while her mask was on, while she'd been _Buttlord, _were moving in now like the proverbial zombie horde... only they weren't coming to rip her apart or kill her.

No, they were trying to take her wherever the hell they were going.

_Run. Run as hard and fast as you can you fucking jizz-sniffing dickrag. _

She was too panicked to fuck with time- she didn't think to find the moment for a freeze nor reach backwards to undo the last minute or so. Instead, with her newly freed hand, she reached to release the closure on her overcoat, shrugging the protective layer off of her shoulders and, by proxy, her still trapped arm out of the sleeve despite all the grip strength Mr. Turner could muster. She lost a glove in the process, ducking away in her black sleeveless she wore underneath and only one purple glove remaining on her right hand. With both feet on the ground, she was able to very quickly assess the growing mob, sight an opening, and throw herself down and towards it- shoulder first.

Briefly, she caught sight of Mysterion on the other side of that opening, no doubt fighting to maintain it.

Someone caught her around the middle, mid-lunge. Another set of hands, out of the chaos, arresting her forward momentum and yanking her back.

The opening she'd sighted closed, and something slammed into the back of her head.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

WELL HELLO THERE FRIENDS.

Hubby is back home, and I'm very much enjoying as we get back into the swing of being together. Thanks to y'all for bearing with me as life happens, and to everyone who has been reading and reviewing the story. Your feedback is extremely motivating and precious to me as an author.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	8. Mysterion Needs a Stunt Double

**::End Of The Line – Mysterion Needs a Stunt Double::**

The hit hadn't been enough to knock Dee out for the count, but it did _daze _her. Her world swam for a moment, confused and chaotic, as she became aware of _more and more _hands grasping her person. Shoulders secured, arms grasped, legs arrested, and the ground somewhere far away from her confused sense of balance. She still struggled, still yanked and bent, but the movements lacked any knowing precision; she was flailing.

_Get out of here- undo it, go back-_

She tried to concentrate, tried to _breathe _and focus, fight back the horror of neighbors carrying her between them to a location she'd not chosen to go, and give up the reflex to struggle against them as they did so... but it felt very much like building a house of cards on a moving train over rough tracks. Slow inhales were let out as guttural grunts as she tried to twist her limbs away from the hands that held them, terror shuddering through her every time she failed.

And then came the _noise. _

She recognized it in an instant. The digital _scream _that was Marie's version of a priming noise.

It wasn't like before, where the sound had been distant and reasonably easy to fight back against. No, someone had put a speaker right next to her ear, and the sound was drilling into the center of her brain with all the care and finesse of an oceanic oil rig owned by BP. The pain was the sort that forced her jaw open, but failed to emit a scream as the pain arrested her between all the hands that fought to hold her still.

She hadn't realized it, but she'd closed her eyes, lids tightly clenched down as if they could lock out some of the aural assault. They couldn't, of course, but that only ensured that the next thing to come out of that speaker next to her ear would have her full attention.

A voice. _Marie's carefully enunciated, deliberate and stern voice. _

She felt her stomach flip. She wanted to force a scream out of her open jaw to try and drown the woman out, but she couldn't- the priming noise had frozen her, trapped her in a prison of her own flesh, and the voice speaking to her now took complete ownership of her brain.

"_You will forward this message to everyone on your contacts list who lives in South Park. You will go to the South Park Mall. If you encounter Dee, you will capture them and show them this video. You will not listen to Dee, or anything they tell you to do. If you are Dee, you will not struggle. You will not fight. You will submit. You will go to the South Park Mall, and await further instruction." _

A list of simple and direct orders that explained a great deal. That explained how control of the town had been taken so quickly and so suddenly... and why these randos hadn't tried to grab her until her mask was off. Most people didn't _know _she was Buttlord- they didn't recognize her.

Not until the mask was ripped off and her hood fell back.

The first order triggered no reflex in her; she no longer had a mobile device upon which to send anyone anything. The one Kenny had lent her ran out of minutes; essentially becoming a _brick _with a camera and a few of her general-use priming noises downloaded onto it... and it was still in over overcoat, which was no longer on her person. The next, however? The command to proceed to the South Park Mall? That made her legs try to move, outside her will. Then there was the bit that was _about her- _the bit that took her back to her basement and her attempt to free her father as well as Cartman's future self, and the abject failure thereof. She couldn't free anyone that Marie had her hooks in- _they wouldn't listen to her once they knew who she was._

The next bit, the bit that was _for _her, felt a bit like she'd been whacked in the head again. She'd been fighting- _of course she had- _trying to dig in and resist like she had before; identifying the invisible force that was still making her legs bend and move like a knocked-over wind-up toy despite not currently being able to walk. To be told not to struggle, to give up the fight, to _submit- _

She went boneless. The struggle stopped; physically, mentally, the tension flowed out of her. Her gaping jaw softened into a relaxed gap that neither strained open nor clenched shut. Her eyes opened and addressed the cloudy sky overhead.

The hands around her set her down, putting her back on her feet, just as the final command was pronounced.

Again, her feet started to move; shuffling on to her given destination without halt or hesitation.

* * *

Mysterion was angry.

Angry at Cartman for being a jackass who couldn't let something go in the middle of a crisis, angry at his bull-headed partner for leaving the relative safety of the van without a plan, angry at _himself _for enabling her and failing to safe-guard her. That last one hit harder than anything else; he'd lost focus, distracted by Eric's antics to the degree that he didn't realize what kind of trouble Buttlord was in until _after _she'd been mobbed and he had been unable to get to her.

If he had just _moved faster, _or _paid more attention, _he and the others wouldn't be in this mess. He should have been more insistent, he decided. He _should _have grabbed Buttlord and drug her away before Cartman really got into her head; that would have solved everything.

_Like hell it would have. She would have dug her heels in._

Oh, great, some self-pity to throw onto the rage pile. That's what he needed right now, with his body shambling on against his will. He, Kyle, and Butters had all been fighting to get at her when they realized what was happening. What had happened to Eric in the chaos, he didn't know. Maybe the kid had fucked off, or maybe he had thrown himself into the crowd in his desperate bid to beat the hell out of Buttlord despite his beef with her being utterly petty bullshit that really _should _have waited until after the chaos with the town was over with.

Mysterion, as a defender of the people and the town, hoped the guy had made a run for it.

Kenny, as someone who was really sick of Eric giving his girlfriend shit, really hoped he'd gotten caught up in the blast of sound that had frozen everyone who _hadn't _already been under Marie's control; just like himself, Kyle, and Butters. He'd seen them on the edges of his vision with that shit blasted through his eardrums, reminding him that he _did _have a set of earplugs that he'd neglected to put in during the short-sighted burst of adrenaline of seeing a number of their friends free and unaffected. Another point at which a minor change would have fixed a lot- if they'd _just _come out with ear protection, it wouldn't have mattered whatever the hell Eric said. He wouldn't have been able to get under Buttlord's skin, and the group wouldn't have gotten caught up in the shambling mob that was making its slow but certain way to the mall on the north end of town.

_This shit isn't useful. I can't change the past right now- what **can **I do?_

A good question. Winding himself up felt like something, but stoking internal rage wasn't going to help. He and the others had been caught up in that priming noise, and after spending a few moments _frozen _for the second time that day, Mysterion was now a prisoner within his own perfectly obedient flesh... obedient to _Marie, _anyhow. He couldn't see Butters or Kyle anymore, but no doubt they'd fallen in line as well... and, he had to guess, they were _conscious _as well; still mentally awake despite the control. Still able to think, feel, plan, and plot. Why? Why would Marie leave mental faculties alone?

Digging into that helped him refocus, and get away from the horrible sense of being a puppet on strings. There were mysteries here, and he could fuss over puzzles all damn day no matter what kind of fresh hell was going on around him. Before he could dig into said mystery however, he realized something else that hadn't occurred to him while he'd still been pissed off:

He knew how to get out of this. Alyssa had taught him. Back at her house- they'd been far enough away from the priming noise that she, after freeing herself... _somehow, _commanded him and Morgan to think of the funniest thing they could remember. It had been a strange thing, but his freshly primed brain had complied in diving backwards and bringing up the truly hysterical moment from a few years ago where during the _Paper Towel Incident _the sewers of South Park began backing up into town residences and the first place to get swamped had been Eric's house- Eric, who had arguably been at least somewhat responsible for excessive toilet usage during that food festival due to dosing several out-of-town people with laxatives after they'd failed to vote for his mother's cooking during a competition.

As Mysterion, he'd disapproved, of course... but the _dramatic irony _mixed up with _poetic justice _and _literal toilet humor _was just a triple whammy that hit him too hard not to giggle nearly every time he recalled it... and this moment was no different. Shuddering along with the crowd, nearly to the parking lot of the mall and having joined an ever-thicker throng, _remembering himself remembering _earlier that day still caused a faint scoff; more so when he focused on the look that had been on Eric's face when the toilet in his house quite literally exploded.

He sputtered, and then he laughed aloud- and his feet stumbled. Knees went without support for a split second before he caught himself; the strings were cut.

_Pissing people off makes them easier to control... and making them laugh frees them. Well, I have a few ideas. _

The mob didn't split to go around him as he stumbled; instead, he found himself nearly picked up by the mass of humanity. The group had gained a lot more adults as it passed through the business district, with stragglers still joining the throng. He was confused for a second, limbs clumsy as he tried to figure out which way he needed to go to disengage. He'd pitched forward to avoid getting _carried along, _thinking his best path was _down _and weaving through bodies until he could escape out the sides of this slow-motion stampede.

While his first move had been to attempt to dive away, someone stepped on his cape and he damn near gave himself whiplash.

Panic rose in him as he realized he might have found the exact _worst _time to cure himself of mind control. When his eyes had been locked forward he hadn't realized how _dense _the group had become. Yanking up his cape, his half-bent body was shoved from behind before he fully got his bearings, and ended up even closer to the ground than he'd been before.

"_Hey-!"_

No one heeded him, the indignant shout getting no reaction as he stumbled further, a knee hitting the rough pavement. A hand he'd thrown out to brace himself got stepped on, and someone tripped over him, a knee knocking hard into his back and forcing him down even further.

More people were stepping on him. They didn't even look down; the commands they'd been given didn't allow for it. He opened his mouth to shout at them, but what would even help? Another adult stepping squarely on his back forced the breath out of him anyway, any attempt at calling out ending up as a short and pained yelp.

_Are you **fucking** kidding me?! I don't have time to get trampled and die- I don't know if I'll come back in time- **Alyssa needs me!**_

Someone stepped on his head, and his cheek was forced down to the hard asphalt. There wasn't a large enough break between weight being on his back for him to breathe. Some asshole with boots had just stepped on his right hand with their full weight, and he felt the fabric of his cape tare as someone tripped on it. He was trying to push himself back up, trying to fight his way back to getting upright, _but the stream of people walking atop him just wasn't letting up._

_Not now, please, not now..._

"_Ey! Move your ass! I'm fuckin- WALKIN' N'YEAH!" _

Shouting- Mysterion might have thought he was losing his fucking mind if not for the fact that he was too familiar with near-death hallucinations to know exactly what sort of things he tended to see, hear, smell, or feel right before his mortal flesh gave out. A few seconds later, he finally got a reprieve from memorizing the shapes and sizes of shoe treads with his spine, although he didn't trust it at first... and pushing himself up off of the road fucking _hurt _as trampled fingers reminded him that they were easily broken. Thankfully, he didn't have to do it alone, insistent hands grabbing and yanking him up by the shoulder before both he and his helper got bowled over again.

"C'mon, asshole, do you wanna fuckin' get splattered? Get yer DC-loving ass up. _Jesus, _this is why you never got a Netflix deal, man."

Yep, that was Eric.

"Fuck you, Coon didn't, either."

The retort was followed up by hawking a glob of bloody spit at the ground; he'd bit the inside of his cheek when his skull had been stepped on.

Somewhat surprisingly, Eric didn't retort, or let go of him. Instead, Mysterion found himself nearly _dragged _along by his shoulder, the other boy's mass and height proving sufficient enough to push through the mob without either of them losing their footing. In a few moments they had escaped the crushing center of the stampede, and could take a more direct route beyond the looser fringes.

Finally stopped, he could get his bearings; they were very nearly to the mall. The place where Eric had pulled him out of it was the parking lot just outside the weed dispensary. There, he could take stock of his battered person and ripped up clothes; his costume had gotten fucked in the horrible moments he'd been underfoot, with both knees and his left elbow torn through and skinned to shit. His fingers were all willing to bend, but his right hand felt excessively stiff and complained when he clenched it. The fabric around his neck had to be pulled forward, loosening it from around his throat before he could look to the cape itself; nearly torn it half at his waist. With a second of consideration, he made the decision to finish the job, ripping the fabric the rest of the way off and letting the shortened and ragged edge be what it was. After a check of _himself... _he looked to his apparent savior.

Again, he had to confirm to himself... _yep, _that was Cartman.

Just not the one he expected.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

_HOO BOY I WONDER WHAT **THAT **MEANS_

:3

I'm pressing X to doubt that this story will be done before the end of December. My writing speed has slowed down since the hubby came home, and the Stardew addiction is back in force since the new update... but I still intend to do a holiday special short-fic between the seasons, so y'all look forward to that shit XD

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	9. Threading Loopholes

**::End Of The Line – Threading Loopholes::**

The mall wasn't the final destination, just the staging area.

Wendy might have been gobsmacked, if her conscious brain wasn't entirely consumed with the irritated frustration that was breathing with a stuffy nose and being unable to blow it. There was no physical action within her control. She had no grasp of her movement, of her breathing, even her _blinking _was outside her grasp and maddening. The longer she spent away from her warm chair, her hot tea, and the comforting hum of her computer tower the less her brain wanted to be any flavor of cooperative. Thinking, scheming, plotting- who had time for that when she was just so _pissed off _that she couldn't get control of herself and _stop _putting one foot in front of the other? The gunk of being sick was just the pickles on the shit sandwich... or, she supposed the _snot, _seeing as there'd been a glob of it balanced at the tip of her nose long enough that it _froze _in the wind on the long walk to the mall.

_Fuck _that shit stung.

There was a point at which she turned everything she had towards _not fighting it. _Instead, she wanted to hurry herself along; break free of the steady pace and get to the destination sooner with the expectation of _warmer air _and _answers. _That, too, was outside her power. She could no more speed up than she could stop, and her arrival at the mall was within a group of other shamblers who'd stumbled out of the neighborhood at the same time she had... same as she couldn't _turn her head and look _when she heard some kind of commotion going on behind her; first near the neighborhood, and then again when she'd nearly arrived. She could have _sworn _she heard a familiar voice call out, but that was just another thing she couldn't _do _anything about- _more frustration, more anger-_

She felt like she was going to explode.

Finally, her feet crossed the threshold, and blessed central heating blasted at her from the fans in the main entry of the mall that mitigated how much cold air got in every time someone opened the doors.

Instead of relief, her thawed nose began to run, and _sneezing _became yet another thing she couldn't control... and she couldn't even wipe her face.

_I am going to fucking kill Marie. This is degrading._

It was shortly after that thought that she got a look at what was going on, and realized this wasn't the final stop on this ride- just a holding zone for the next step. She'd been tightly packed in with other bodies while approaching and passing into the mall, but into the main atrium people spread out a touch before their steps came to a stop. The whole town must have been here... or, at least, most of it- the rest were still arriving. She, like others, only shuffled forward when someone else bumped her from behind, forcing forward movement away from the doors to avoid trampling. At first she didn't get it- why order people to gather at the mall? Supposedly they were here to await further instruction, but she couldn't even _look around _to see if anyone was there to be giving that instruction.

Then the overhead PA kicked on... and instead of a voice echoing through the mall, the way sudden sales would be announced, or to notify shoppers that it was near closing time... _another one of those noises came ringing through._

The electronic scream was even more horrible over a set of amplified speakers. Wendy desperately wanted to slap her hands over her ears, but could not... no more than she could wipe the fucking snot off of her face.

Around her, people were changing posture. She could only see those who were in her immediate forward view, one here, one there, maybe another? She wasn't sure; there was a guy in the way, blocking her view into the gathered crowd. She was certain there were more she couldn't see, because all at once those people she could see started walking, and she could hear far more steps than just those beginning to march off in the same direction. Spaces opened up in the mass of humanity as individuals began to head onwards... but where? There were no words that followed the noise that played, but she knew that the noises themselves could contain commands- usually _if-then _statements, like computer programming. _If _this is true, _then _do that. Whatever the statement was, folded into _that _specific noise, only some members of the people present were responding to it... and the _then _appeared to be _then go somewhere else._

But where?

The noise ended. Then another one started. Another group of people perked up, and began moving as a new, smaller mass. Wendy could nothing but watch, trying to understand what tied the groups together was the process repeated three, four, five times- sometimes she thought she knew what tied the groups together. One grouping was of exceptionally tall persons, another of mostly young girls- although there were a couple boys in that group, too. There were others where she didn't understand at all; the people who responded to the sound appeared to be utterly random... although with that specific group, she recognized one of their number; Stan's Dad, Randy. His face jumped out at her when she passed in front of her field of view, marching off with a group that contained a few other dads, but also someone else who was too short to be anyone but a kid... although she failed to get a good look at them.

_Sorting. For what? Where are they going? Marie gets everyone to come to one place, but now she's splitting them up... **why?**_

A raw sort of rage had been worked up in her chest during the walk across town, but Wendy found that giving way to a different feeling as the tones over the PA kept playing.

_Fear._

The longer she stood there, occasionally bumped forward by the still-arriving mass, the more afraid she became of when her feet would start moving again and take her somewhere else. She didn't even care if it was back into the cold- she was scared of the _why _Marie was doing this, and why she'd be using those squalling noises to sort through the entire town. What was she looking for? … and what would happen if _she _had what Marie wanted?

Her heart made the leap up into her throat as the tone changed, and she felt her spine stiffen. Horror pulsed through her; Marie had taken control of _everything _else, but adrenaline still pumped through her like a normal bout of fight-or-flight... which maybe made it worse as her body chose to simple _amble _along a new path rather than _run, run, fucking run _as her primal brain demanded from somewhere beneath all her cognitive gray-matter. The klaxons could scream all the liked; her pace never broke that of a relaxed Sunday stroll.

She wasn't the only one on the move. She could see others, forming a new group around her. A few adults in her peripheral vision, too blurry to make out entirely. Then a kid, in front of her, who she _instantly _recognized- Kyle's little brother, Ike. She wanted to reach out, tap his shoulder, _say something... _but the more she fought, the more helpless she felt.

_There's no brute-forcing this bullshit- I gotta **out think **it! What were the commands? At least the ones it gave me directly that I was able to cognitively process? Go to the mall, await instructions, apprehend Dee if I saw her, and **don't listen to Dee **if she tells me to do anything- simple and to the point, with Marie covering her ass in case Dee tries to break the brainwashing... assuming she doesn't just **run, **Dee always knew when to **bail-**_

She blinked. She felt like she'd tripped over something. Her body was still traveling the halls of the South Park Mall, going _somewhere _with a small group of others, but her mind was attempting to race under the layers of _sick _gunking up the gears and slowing down her usual _operations per second _speed.

_They're the same person. Dee and Marie. Different ages, sure, separated by some serious shit... but their faces are the same. One is the **future **of the other. **They're the same person. Dee is Marie, and if I'm not supposed to do anything Dee tells me to do, then I'm not supposed to listen to Marie, either.**_

Finally, after all her struggling, after all her fighting... Wendy _stumbled. _

She'd found the loophole- one her brain would believe. It was like she'd released a catch that let her go from a full-body restraint, joints and muscles failing as control swapped over and she nearly hit the floor with the sudden shock of it.

The first thing she did was hastily regain her feet, too-aware of how closely followed she was by people bigger than herself. She felt _sore, _not just sick body aches but _kicked her own ass at volleyball practice _sore, like all that fighting she'd been trying to do had burnt up some real energy, and it was hard to get herself back in order and walking. Thankfully, getting called away from the larger group meant that there were only _two _people on her heels at that second, not _twenty, _and she was able to get some distance on them after a few hasty stumbles and a bewildered backwards glance.

She was back in control... which meant the next thing she did was _wipe her fucking face _on her sleeve, because _holy crap gross._

That taken care of, she realized she had a choice to make- duck out and try to find the others, maybe try to _free them _with the knowledge she had that let her free herself... or play along with the group she'd been called with, and see where it went.

A glance forward, at Ike, practically made the decision for her.

Kyle would never forgive her if she abandoned his little brother, and if Kyle was mad at her? So was Stan. _Don't fuck with best friends _was in girl code, sure, but it was practically the _only _rule in bro code.

_Sabotage. If I play along, I might end up in the right place to fuck something up for Marie. _

She decided, right then, that this was exactly where she needed to be.

The walk seemed shorter, now that she wasn't fighting against every step. The path her little group was taking through the mall was heading towards one of the side entrances. She recognized it specifically as where the Mall's busing lane was; where big buses brought people to and from the mall; both from town and surrounding areas. The bus to Denver always made a stop at the mall to pick people up, and Wendy had gotten off at the mall more than a few times after going into the city with her girlfriends; usually to get something from the food court before going home.

She watched as Ike, in the lead of their group, which she recognized now as being comprised of a few nerdy-looking adults as well as herself, pushed the door open without hesitation. With a mild note of surprise, she saw an entirely familiar sight beyond that door that felt surreal in the current circumstances; a bus idling in the bus lane with its door open, waiting for passengers, a uniformed driver at the wheel.

That driver featured a thousand-yard stare... one she'd noticed on the faces of everyone else who was still under Marie's control.

A glance to the right was attracted by movement at the edge of her vision, where another bus was already departing; leaving the bus lane and turning around to head back towards the street and go somewhere else with a full load of people in the passenger windows. For a fleeting second, as it passed by on the other side of the cement divider between the bus lane and the rest of the parking lot, Wendy spied Mr. Marsh, Randy, in one of those windows.

_Please tell me Stan isn't out here, too. Please tell me he passed out on his couch, and he's not mixed up in all this. He'll be so mad he slept through it... but it would make me feel better._

Fleeting thoughts, the last words through her head as escape was put off the table entirely. She was following along with the herd, filing up the steps into the bus that was waiting for them, and taking that step up into the vehicle was probably her last chance to run and actually _get away _in any meaningful sense of the phrase... and instead of even _considering _it, she was thinking about Stan.

_Typical- boys are **such** a distraction. _

Her feet left the sidewalk, her group morphed into a line as single-file shuffling brought each member to a seat in the mid-section of the bus. There were others in the back who had arrived before them, and yet empty seats in the front. Everything was orderly, and _dead silent _as no one spoke or moved once they sat down. Ike, ahead of her, moved left and ended up at a window seat, and she was able to put herself down in the seat next to him and remain close, one of the nerdy adults in their group taking the last seat to the outside of her. Both individuals at her sides did the same thing once they were sat down; stared forward with a dumb expression and glazed eyes that occasionally blinked.

If she hadn't found a way through the control, she would have been like them. She was tempted to say something, to see if she could share that information and break them free, too- at least _Ike, _but... no, she couldn't. The voice who had given commands over everyone's phones was very clearly feminine; pointing out that she and Dee were one in the same would be a proposition most people wouldn't even _believe, _and if they did? That would be selling out Dee's secret... and Wendy _did _consider the girl one of her best friends.

… _maybe later, if things seem more desperate. No one is in danger... yet. _

That was something of an odd realization. What had happened had been... shocking, certainly, and beyond a surprise- but had anyone been hurt? If Marie _wanted _to hurt people, Wendy had no doubt she was very much capable of that; everyone remembered what Dee did to Agent Russel on _accident. _She hated to imagine what her abilities might do with some real malice behind them and the kind of _finesse _that had already been displayed by the operation so far. What was going on wasn't chaotic, or violent; it was almost disturbing for how quiet it all was.

Something about the tactics employed made Wendy think that Marie didn't want to make a mess. She was being careful, acting in measured steps... _not at all _Dee's style, but the woman had at least five decades on her. Maybe Dee would cool off with age.

… _maybe._

More people were arriving, distracting Wendy from her current train of thought. Another group, filing in, taking seats- this one was bigger than hers, made up of mostly men. Among them was the PC Super, and a few other meat-heads who looked like they spent more time pressing plate than anything else... and _Clyde, _who had the same dead-eyed look as everyone else.

Were they all awake in inside their own heads, like she had been? She had to guess so. They'd all watched the same video, gotten the same commands. Everyone around her could see and hear everything that was going on... but couldn't _act, _locked up and away from the controls of their own bodies.

Even if no major harm was being done in a physical way, that still felt like an act of violence. Just considering that everyone around her was having their own internal struggle, desperate and unable to regain agency, made her feel sick to her stomach. Whatever the reasoning behind Marie's methods... this kind of subversion of free will was _inexcusable. _

_Why would Dee do something like this? They're separated by decades, but it's gotta be the same person deep down- Dee can go far when she's mad, or protecting someone. Sometimes too far. I know she did something __**nasty **__to the president to keep her family safe... so what would motivate __**this?**__ Why would she do this to her hometown? … please don't tell me this is another loop. I'm too sick to figure out a loop right now._

Questions for another time; the bus was nearly full. The new group had taken their seats, and there were only a few open spots at the front that Wendy could see. At first she thought they were about to head out- the driver had moved their hand to the lever for the door as if to signal as much; his first move she'd seen since noticing him... but he stopped when another figure bobbed up out of the deep stairwell from the door and stepped into the aisle.

Wendy didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to see it. Them. _Her. _

Dee arrived on the bus, wearing the same dead stare as all the rest, and turned to take a seat; the last passenger before the door closed and the driver put them into gear.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

Wendy you lil smartie, always finding new ways to think around problems... even when you're sick XD

This is why you weren't at the Morgan Freeman info dump; between you and Kenny there would have been no mysteries left :3

The author is having a great deal of fun now that the hubby is home. We're beginning to settle into a new routine, one that includes a regular dose of personal time for me at the end of the day so I can still sneak in a touch of writing time in between my insatiable desire to cuddle him endlessly.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	10. Under Orders

**::End Of The Line – Under Orders::**

Marie wished it hadn't had to be this way- she _really _did. She'd done everything very carefully up to this point; moving slowly to avoid kicking up too much of a fuss. The _last _thing she'd wanted had been to cause a major incident... but she had also recognized from the beginning that it would be wise to have a back-up plan, even a messy one, if slow and careful ended up not cutting it.

It really wasn't her strong suit, anyhow. Planning had _never _been her job when she'd been young. She was an operative, not a strategist. Something one pointed in the right direction and backed away from until the dust settled. Really, it was a testament to all the skills she'd gained over the years that she'd made it _this far _before something got fucked.

It all began unwinding that night at the garage. She'd tried to do damage control, but she knew better than _anyone _how hard it was to pin down a time traveler. She'd tried to trap the kid in temporal lock-step, only to realize too late that she'd participated in a time loop. She'd tried to push her own schedule into a higher gear, but her assistant had been _abducted... _although she hadn't realized that until she'd searched the complex and found his truck still sitting in the loading bay.

All at once, it became clear that the time was _now _or _never, _and more drastic measures were required. Her escalation of stealing the medicine, raiding the hiding places she knew about and searching the home of the only friend _she'd _ever trusted that much, had failed to keep her younger self out of her plans. Somewhere along the way, she'd _underestimated _Alyssa's larger circle of regular friends- _someone _had been trusted enough to keep a stash, and thanks to that someone, Marie's attempt to waylay Alyssa and frame Haley had all turned out for naught.

Hell, Haley hadn't even _stayed dead. _Hacking the security system [read also, breaking into a house that never locked its back door, accessing the computer managing the system in the garage, finding that system had an utterly predictable password: the family's last name and address of the home, and taking a picture of the QR code that system displayed when linking the app on a smartphone] at the Stotch residence and turning one of the outdoor cameras every-so-slightly to catch the corner of the Ostenmayer's front yard, she'd been able to watch on her phone as _the good Doctor Kartwright _stepped out of a squad car with a uniformed officer that day.

She'd watched Haley kill herself. Compelled her to do it. The only way that could have been undone is if Alyssa had been nearby, arrived within the hour to turn back time on a single entity rather than pull back the hands on the entire scene. Seeing Haley alive? That was the final straw.

That was when she'd pulled the trigger.

Spoofing her old phone number had not been hard; that was an easy trick with a smart phone and a laptop. Mass text? Easy. Video? Easier. Picking the right words? Took a little time, but she'd been planning this _months _in advance. A great deal of priming had already been done, long before she pulled the trigger today. Free-booting the occasional viral video onto a Facebook page with a little priming feedback seeded into the audio, with maybe a tenth of a second of her face spliced into the video itself, had been preparing the English-speaking population of the world at large to respond to her at the drop of a hat- with little more than _cute animal videos _and _shocking click-bait _stolen from real content creators and re-uploaded onto a dummy page to spread into the online feeds of _millions._

Little Lyssie didn't know it, but she lived in a world that was eager to serve her, should she ever give the order. Today, _Marie _gave the orders, and only to one little town.

"We're getting this done. _Today." _

Muttering aloud- a bad habit she'd picked up, after she'd been run through the machine. After her palms had been seared against the surface of that silver ball, and who knew how much current had been run through her person. The screaming had torn up her throat, to the degree that she almost couldn't speak immediately after. Once she'd realized that she could still produce sound, she began doing it all the time- and why not? The consequences had been removed at that point. The eggheads had done what they'd set out to do; make her helpless and harmless, so why not carry on tunes and mutter her every thought aloud?

It wasn't until later that she realized she still had something left. That they hadn't managed to take _all _of it.

That was the day the planning began... but that had been _many _years ago. Far distant. She returned to the current moment, the one where she stood in the loading dock, just off the tailgate of the abandoned truck that belonged to her would-be partner... who, she imagined, would be arriving sooner or later with the rest of the town. Engine noise coming down the long tunnel from the surface made her aware that another bus was arriving; the third that she'd assess and direct, ensuring they went where they needed to go.

Progress had already been made. The first group had been individuals with electrical and engineering knowledge; tradesmen and women whom she could compel to pick up tools and begin seeking out and repairing the shorts and breaks that Eric had been repairing one-by-one. Their bus had arrived with a load of more generalized workers; young teens who needed little more than functioning hands to begin draining the water out of the lowest level the old-fashioned way; with a bucket line that they were dumping into the sewer main to get it the hell out of the building. Depending on how effective they were, she'd know soon enough if _that _was leaking too and would require repair from a plumbing crew.

She could compel action, but not expertise. Sorting based on knowledge and ability would move things along.

There were others, besides, and each repair detail would gain more people over time. The priming noises she'd set up at the mall were on a repeating set that would call for different specializations over and over again, ending with the more general call, meant to catch people in groupings as they arrived and were able to load up.

With the entire town hard at work on this hellhole, she'd have it up and running in almost no time.

Of course, she wasn't waiting about in the loading dock just to send work crews on their way. She could have organized another set of holding areas to give recorded directions if that were her only purpose. Once main power was restored, she intended to do _exactly _that with any stragglers while she turned her attention to getting the machine up and running.

No, standing in the loading bay, watching every bus arrive, was an act of oh-so-subtle anxiety.

Marie wanted to be there when _precious little Lyssie _arrived- lest she somehow end up with one of the work crews on accident. The _don't struggle _command would leave her vulnerable.

The last thing she wanted to do was to cause that little girl harm... not when Alyssa was the last hope at any of them having a future. _Any _future.

She'd been over it in her head, a thousand times. There was no other way forward. After so many years, this was the _only way to set it right._

"_Can't un-fuck it... gotta cut her loose." _

Headlights and the roar of the engine blasted into the loading dock as the bus arrived, slowing to a near stop at the bottom of the long ramp before making the wide circle needed to turn around. Half-way through the arc, the vehicle stopped and parked, the passenger door folding open and facing the shuttered cargo elevator. Within, she could see the shapes of individuals standing up and filing off, creating a disorganized mass that clotted together only a few feet away from the bus as passengers disgorged from the open portal; coming to a stop as they reached the end of their current set of orders and returned to the state they'd been in at the mall; _awaiting further instructions._

Marie had come around to meet the group when the bus stopped, but hurried closer when she saw the first passenger who stepped off.

Candy red curls- why _red? _Why _that specific type of red?_ It stood out; bright and blatant. She'd never colored her hair like that as a kid- against code. Her handlers wouldn't allow it. _Natural colors only. _There'd been no argument nor childish negotiation; that had been a time of orders and discipline.

No matter, and hardly a time for distraction- _Alyssa had arrived, _her gaze dull and her hair a mess. It looked as if she'd put up a fight when she'd been captured; a glove missing from the purple pair and her clothing generally ruffled. She was like the others at the moment; one in a herd of cattle that got nudged forwards at others got off behind her, loosely remaining within the groups with which they'd boarded the bus. By the time Marie had arrived, Alyssa had been nudged and pushed until her nose was nearly against the closed shutter of the cargo elevator.

There were other familiar faces in that crowd. Young faces that touched on memories... she might have been nostalgic if she didn't have a greater purpose in mind.

"Here we are, got something, _just for you." _

A pair of headphones were produced from her pocket, linked back to her phone. The earbuds were easily secured, wild trusses of hair lifted up and back long enough to press them in; a quiet way to give a singular and simple order to her younger self who did not struggle nor pull away from her hands.

Direct contact with one's own timeline was discouraged. Nearly forbidden, but for the case of predestination where it was necessary- but Marie had broken plenty of other rules to get here. No one was going to draw her up on charges when this was over. If there was any judgment to be had, that laid in the hands of whatever higher power, if any, governed this shit-sniffing universe.

For now, she tapped the play button on a short audio file on her phone, one that relayed a simple command to her freshly arrived guest of honor.

A second later, the girl went boneless. Marie was ready to catch her, preventing a hard collision with the floor and gently setting her back against the wall. She was neither shocked nor surprised- the command she'd relayed through the earbuds had only been a single word.

_Sleep._

* * *

"_Who the hell are you?"_

Breaking character was not something Mysterion was in a habit of doing. The _voice _was part of the costume. Dropping down, getting gruff; it was more than identity protection. It was part of the image, the _vibe... _and his regular speaking voice? Just didn't have that vibe going on.

It had that vibe even less when shock threw an adolescent squeak in.

"Balls still dropping, then, ey?"

This didn't make any sense. The human being he was looking at was easily recognizable, and yet that recognition threw him into brain lock.

Before him was Eric Cartman... but it wasn't his Eric, or even the Eric they'd left in the basement at Alyssa's house... although this Eric was a lot closer to that one than to his- at least as far as _age _was concerned.

It wasn't a _boy _Kenny was looking at. He was staring at an adult; a tall man with a husky build and maybe a little more of a belly than most would consider healthy. Barrel-chested, broad shoulders, it was a version of Eric who had grown up into his own body with enough strength to carry the fat and not simply look like an overgrown baby in grown-up clothing. Unlike the shitty version of Eric he and Alyssa had abducted, this one was not balding and didn't have fucked up skin that evidenced stress and substance abuse. Heck, the fucker might have even had some smile lines... though Kenny knew Eric too well to consider that as a good omen to anyone _besides _Eric himself.

The man wasn't dressed to stand out. Black pants, tan work shirt, brown overcoat, black earmuffs- muted and neutral colors that were not at all there to call attention to who he was, but Kenny still knew him from his manner, his voice, and the features of his face. He'd _glared _at that face too many times, and laughed both _with _and _at _that face plenty more to mistake it. Gloved hands had been slipped into the pockets of his jacket, taking on a relaxed stance while waiting for Kenny to get his brain back together.

"C'mon, dude." He prodded. "It's not that hard- this isn't gonna be Canada all over again, I promise."

"It better fuckin' not be." Kenny finally managed to breathe, a visceral reaction at even _trying _to think of that mess forcing him to shake it off and get back with the program. "... did we _do _something? Did you... morph out of the other version of Eric we left behind when we ran?"

"_That fucker?!" _The man, Kenny decided to dub him _Clean Eric, _let out a laugh like he'd just been told the best joke in the state. "Oh _Jesus, _that's fuckin' rich... oh God, fuck no, _no, no, no- _he's a different bucket of shit entirely. _No, _I got hopped back from a different future, compliments of your partner."

"... _which _future?"

Clean Eric's face drew into a broad smile. "This one." He grinned.

"The fuck do you mean, _this one?! _I just got lectured by _Morgan Fucking Freeman _for an _hour _about how the futures are all fucked up because _anchors _and _loops _and _splits _and _shifts _and all sorts of time travel shit, and you're gonna smirk at me when I ask you which future you're from and say _this one?!" _

… the day was finally catching up to him. More temporal bullshit- straight from Alyssa's asshole, it sounded like.

"... yeah, pretty much." Clean Eric smirked. "Listen man, we could stand here and shoot the shit for the next _six hours, _or you can take your _not-trampled ass, _you're welcome, by the way, and go hitch a ride before all the buses leave. You up for that? Y'know, _doing your job?" _

He blinked. Chunky fucker was right... but he still hesitated.

"... this whole mess got started when a version of _you _betrayed Marie and got stuck in the past. Why the fuck should I take my eyes off you for a _second?" _

"Because your partner is a tactless wrecking ball who can and will get herself killed before doing _anything _useful... and you'd rather save her ass from getting fried in the big silver chair of doom than try to figure out my deal."

"... you could just _tell me _your deal."

"'fraid not." He was smirking again. Or maybe just more. "I'm on orders; save your ass and send you on your way."

"_Orders?" _Since when did _Eric fucking Cartman _take orders? And why the hell did the fucker look so _smug _with himself? It was the sort of look that, on his Cartman, would have made Kenny's stomach twist. His gut feeling, his beloved and trusted instinct, had an association with that face and that association was _fucking bad shit coming your way._

Which made it more surreal that he... _wasn't _getting that feeling right now. The guy just had a shit-eating grin like someone who had already read the ending of a beloved book series and was trying to resist the urge to spoil everything to someone who wasn't done yet.

"On _whose _orders?"

Clean Eric slipped a hand out of one of his jacket pockets, presenting Kenny with an object. It didn't look to be anything special at first glance; simple green plastic, the sort little army men were made out of. _Cheap, _soft, easy to melt and re-shape, if one had the time and know-how. It was the same kind of stuff he'd used before to make his little Mysterion markers- the sort he'd tape onto stuff as part of his dramatic flair, using a spring out of a click-pen to put roughly molded bits of green plastic together after getting them _just _warm enough to shape but not quite hot enough to burn his hands.

Second glance showed him that was exactly what he was looking at. One of those little plastic markers; a question mark connected to a base with a spring, using the same cheap material he always used because it was what he could easily get his hands on... but made much _better _than he made his. Whomever had made this one, they had access to a proper mold for the plastic. The shape of the question mark was clean, with sharp edges, and a little flourish line running along the faces. The base had a little 'M' embossed into it, and the details had been painted in metallic purple.

"Yours."

Clean Eric deposited the marker into a hand that was outstretched in dumb shock more than anything else, wide eyes staring for a long moment. Too long; the man had walked away by the time Kenny looked up. A glance left and right, he blinked a few times in bewilderment as it appeared Clean Eric had finally mastered the art of the disappearing act.

He then looked back down, at the object in his hand, and closed his fingers around it before shoving it in his pocket.

He had somewhere else to be.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

I feel like I've used a lot of words not to go very far... but I also need to stop second-guessing myself and get this show on the road.

_Just for funsies, gotta keep reminding myself that it's just for funsies. XD_

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	11. Passing Inspection

**::End of The Line – Passing Inspection::**

After a trip out of town to the true middle of _nowhere, _off a country road, down a snowy hill, and into an underground _tunnel of doom _that belonged in a Resident Evil plot, Wendy and her other captive peers had arrived at an underground facility that could not have been anything besides the lab. _The _lab; the one that she had been trying to pin a location on, the one Kartwright had been helping them search for, the _place Marie was trying to rebuild._

The place that Dee had been slowly losing her mind about, even if she never said anything about it to Wendy. She didn't have to. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in Dee's head at that moment; sitting at the front of the bus, able to see through the broad glass windshield as the heavy vehicle worked its way through terrain it was not designed for and passed through a pair of open gates- the first being chain link and creating a perimeter around the second; a metal door that had been set into the ground and, when closed, would have easily disappeared beneath the regular snow cover this region enjoyed.

Beyond that door was a long, sloping tunnel. The descent was one that made Wendy's ears pop, and made her glad that she could swallow to relieve the pressure rather than have to live with the discomfort.

At the bottom of the slope was a massive underground room... and Marie herself was waiting for them.

What appeared to be some kind of loading bay. Wendy had to get her first impressions while she was still on the bus, in the precious seconds before looking about with aware eyes would not get her noticed as someone with their free will still intact. The room was wide, big enough for the bus to easily turn itself about despite a pair of vehicles being parked against the far-right wall as seen while coming down the ramp from the surface. One was a nondescript white truck; the one Dee had taken a picture of the other night, and whose license plate had led Wendy to finding a photocopy of Marie's driver's license within the U-STOR-IT database for rental records- a blurry and grainy image that had led Wendy to conclude that the woman was, in fact, a future version of Dee. The other was a broken down and busted pickup, more rust than anything else, with visible garbage in the cab.

Marie was just off the tail gate of the busted pickup, arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed against the headlights of the oncoming bus. Wendy could recognize her after the video that had been sent her phone; a much clearer image that presented a woman who certainly had Dee's rounded features, but who had spent a great deal of her life with her brow furrowed and her lips drawn thin. She was dressed simply and functionally; black pants and shirt, a long tan overcoat, a black hat, and a bag slung across her chest.

Marie's presence made Wendy's heart beat faster; this would be tricky. In the last few seconds before the bus parked, she glanced forward. She couldn't see Dee while she was fully sat down in her seat, but she knew the girl was up there, strapped in for the ride without recourse.

_Hang in there, girl, we're gonna get out of this okay. Together. _

The bus parked. Passengers stood up in unison, but neither pushed nor shoved as normal bus passengers would. Instead, people entered the aisle to leave in an orderly fashion, row-by-row, with Dee being the very first one off the bus.

Out the edge of her vision, Wendy could see Marie walking alongside the parked vehicle. It appeared she was coming to meet the group, but that walk changed pace- the woman began to trot. In a brave moment, Wendy turned her head to spy out the windows directly, and could see Marie had focused in on the first person off of the bus.

_Oh no._

Panic snapped through her system, but she had to stay in line. She put her head forward, taking a deep, if snotty, breath and letting it out through her mouth. Were her hands shaking? She needed to keep it together. Surreptitiously, she shrugged down the overcoat she'd picked up on her way out of her house, enough so that it the adult-sized sleeves would cover her fingers and remove signs of nervousness from view. She raised her brow high, squashed it down low, and then tried to find the medium between the two to mimic the glazed over and _dead _expression of those around her, pressing the corners of her lips wide and narrow to try and work out the tension and put the shape of her mouth into something neutral.

Direct scrutiny could ruin everything. If she was found out, the whole plan was dead in the water.

Right before exiting the bus, her nose began to itch.

_Oh for the love of- really?! Not now, please, not now._

With her head locked in the forward position, she got a glimpse of what was happening over the heads of everyone. The bus had parked with the door facing the back wall of the hangar-like room, maybe within ten feet of it. There was a shutter pulled down over a section of that wall, and there was a cargo hoist built into the ceiling. Nearly against that shutter was Dee, with Marie right next to her. It looked like Marie had given her a set of... _headphones? _Yeah, white ear buds, plugged into a smart phone that Marie pulled from a pocket inside the long coat she was wearing. Marie looked to the phone, poked the face of it, and then... _Dee went down. _The woman caught her, prevented her from hitting the floor, and then bent out of view.

Wendy made the step to the concrete floor, and lost view of the scene to the dozen or so people in the way of her line of sight. Just like at the mall, everyone only moved forward when bumped from behind, although their groupings seemed to maintain some cohesion once off the bus. She noticed that while she took steps a little more to the _side _rather than forward, trying to get into a position where she could see Dee again, Ike stayed with her, as did the other nerdy adults who were part of the group she'd gotten... _called _with, for lack of a better term.

Enough steps directed to edge out around the other grouping, and she could peer ahead and see that Dee was on the floor; set on the ground with her back against the wall, appearing... _asleep?_

_Direct command via the ear buds; to give an order to Dee and Dee alone._

The method noted, attention was brought back to Marie herself... whom, if Wendy had to be honest, she'd expected to be taller. Then again, Dee was hardly the tallest person in their class- it seemed the girl was just _short, _rather than waiting on that timely teenage growth spurt.

When the woman stepped closer, her shortness did nothing against the air of intimidation she exuded. Every move was... _precise, _somehow _trained _or _practiced, _if not literally than at least in quality. Marie Verankert projected a physicality that could not be imagined to stumble, falter, or hesitate. She was short, but stood tall in the muted light of the room, surveying new arrivals with green eyes that sought out any failures in the process to punish.

Behind her, Wendy could hear the bus being put back into gear after the door closed. It nearly distracted her from the faint itching in her nose, but also disturbed her concentration in trying her very hardest not to sneeze. The engine roared, and her head dipped with the involuntary expulsion of air from her nasal passages, forcing out a fresh crop of _gross _onto her upper lip.

It took everything in her to return to looking forward, to remain expressionless, and _not _sniff back or wipe her face.

Inevitably, Marie was _looking _at her.

Horror grasped her spine. She resisted the reflex to meet the woman's gaze; the social expectation to _make eye contact _with a person when they looked at you being something that felt strange to actively fight back against. Like interlacing one's fingers with the wrong thumb on top, or making the active decision to chew on the other side of one's mouth; mundane, insignificant, but an almost _surreal _rebellion against ubiquitous patterns.

Did her eyes move away in her attempt not to look? Did she glance up without realizing it?

Did Marie know she wasn't under control?

_Don't move, don't move, don't move, don't move, **don't move**_

She picked out a spot directly in front of her. Someone was standing just ahead of her. Clyde, she realized. He was facing away, but she recognized his jacket. He was just off to the left of center in her gaze, which put the seam between the body and sleeve of his jacket directly in the center of her field of view while looking straight ahead. She decided to _study _that seam, notice the wear of the threads, the difference in materials between the white fake leather that made up the main body of the jacket, and the mildly fuzzy red material that made up the sleeves. _She needed to keep her eyes still, and not move a muscle._

Her failure to wipe, blow, or sniff led to another sneeze rocking her body. Having an anchor point to return to, she did her best not to think about how gross it felt not to be next to a tissue box at the moment. Really, it was better when she _didn't _have the agency to clean her face; at least then she hadn't had a choice.

"Wendy Testaburger, come stand in front of me."

Enunciated words- not at all like how Dee talked. Dee had a... not a _relaxed _cadence to her speech, but rather one that just didn't have any fucks left to give. Sort of like how Craig talked, if a little messier, and if Craig were a high-alto rather than a mid-tenor. Dee's speech reflected a lack of _practice _with the form, and a little frustration with it. Marie, on the other hand? It was like the way she moved, as if it were nothing _but _practice; something drilled and studied, as if it were not words being spoken but a deadly weapon being handled- like a loaded gun with the safety off.

Wendy supposed considering what Dee's, and by extension, Marie's, voice could do, that was not an off comparison.

Wendy stepped up, careful to keep that expression, and the general forward facing of her head. Coming to the front of the general mob, without the others moving around her, she felt a general flush of heat drop down her back... and was reminded that she'd not bothered with the antiperspirant deodorant while she was sick.

"... you're ill." Marie noted faintly; her mode of speech changing. Not projected and crafted, but a muttering under her breath- _there _she sounded like Dee; careless and flat... if a little rougher. A quality of age, she could guess. The woman's hand reached out, and Wendy felt cold fingers against her forehead, brushing the fringe of her bangs back in the process. "Non-peril clause doesn't cover for illness, I suppose... tch, and of course it's _you. _Light fever, congestion..." She paused, the hand leaving her forehead and reaching for another pocket; this one on the exterior of her long coat.

Wendy didn't know what to expect, but she certainly didn't expect a pocket pack of tissues. What was it with old people and carrying around tissues? _And why was Marie being... nice? Kind?_

Wendy had to fight the reflex to grimace as Marie wiped her face for her, feeling very much like she were _five _but unable to complain without blowing her cover.

The rest of the pack of tissues was stuffed into the pocket of the coat Wendy was wearing. When Marie spoke again, it was back in that clear, commanding manner.

"Wendy Testaburger, you will proceed to the door at the far left corner of this room, enter the stairwell inside, go down one floor, exit through the door on the landing, go left, follow the catwalk to the far end of the room and enter the door labeled 'Habitation.' You will enter the first room on your right, lay down on the bed in that room, and _rest. _You may wipe and-or blow your nose as needed, you may sleep, you may use the attached bathroom to that room. You may not leave habitation once you are there, by any means, unless a general evacuation is called or other life-threatening peril occurs."

… _you're sending me to bed? Seriously? By myself?_

Holding a straight face was still hard... but this time because she was trying to keep a _smile _under wraps.

_Keep it together, bitch, we just gotta keep it together._

"Is anyone else sick?" Marie quested, remaining clear and direct. "Wendy, you may speak to answer questions."

_Holy **shit,** really?_

"Stan Marsh." She reported, trying to keep her voice as flat as her face. Not a lie; he _was _sick- she'd accidentally given him her yuk when he came to visit her after the whole _fire at the Pizzeria _thing... but could she push it? If she said Kyle or Butters or Kenny, could she get them sent her way as well- she could probably convince them of the same logical loophole that had gotten _her _free of Marie's control, and then she'd have more allies to fuck things up behind the scenes... but none of them were _actually _sick. Would Marie check?

Best not to blow her cover. Stick to the truth. She stopped at one name.

"... of course he is." Marie murmured lowly. "Sent him down with a plumbing detail... last thing I need is a drone dropping something important in the middle of operations..."

_Oh, that makes sense. She's not being **nice**, she's safeguarding against mistakes._

… _then why give me tissues?_

"Wendy Testaburger, execute orders." Marie commanded her, suddenly snapping out of her muttering. She said it like she expected a reaction... so Wendy did as she was told- she made a sharp left from where she was standing, and started walking along the back wall- away from the crowd that was awaiting instructions and past Dee's crumpled shape on the floor.

With her back turned to Marie, she risked straining her eyes downwards, to try and see if there was anything else to Dee's condition- anything that would be useful. Sadly, her friend appeared to be out for the count.

Her stomach twisted with anxiety. Was there a fresh priming noise on that headset? Was there another layer of conditioning to make Dee even more deeply complacent?

_Count your blessings, Wendy- one step at a time. Marie doesn't know what you did on the bus. _

At the far corner of the room, she hit the door Marie had mentioned. It was a heavy metal thing, one that squealed on its hinges and resisted movement. Planting her feet and twisting her body to get it open, she was able to risk one last backwards glance. She could hear Marie, splitting up groups and giving orders.

Looking back, she could see Dee for just a second. Sat back against the wall, her hands down. Her left hand, the bare one, had ended up in her lap. But her right? The one that still had a glove? It was on the floor, next to her leg and presumably out of Marie's view- even if the woman wasn't currently occupied with a different task.

That hand formed a thumbs-up.

_Relief- _it flooded Wendy as she stepped past the threshold into the dark maw of the stairwell, proceeding the way she'd been told for the time being.

They still had a fighting chance.

-PAGEBREAK

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

PLAYIN' POSSUM.

I'm having so much fun with this shit, y'all have no idea. I've been so PSYCHED for the story to get here, and now it's all coming together. I know I said that back in #7, and that's still true, but MAN OH MAN Y'ALL.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	12. Panic And Reason Are Not Friends

**::End of The Line – Panic And Reason Are Not Friends::**

Dee had never been so thankful to have a friend who was too damn smart for her own good- someone who could _think _their way around something as absolute and carefully worded as the commands given, and find the flaw in the logic that allowed the entire force that had been holding her captive to be summarily ignored.

Not that being back in control made _this _moment anything less frightening. To be at the lab. _The _lab. The place she'd had nightmares about, despite not knowing what it looked like. She could only guess, but guessing was enough to spark the imagination. Coupled up with the paranoia that had made itself a hateful little knotted home in-between the vertebrae of her spine, she'd participated both willingly and not in numerous mental walkthroughs of a place where she never wanted to actually exist... and yet, here she was.

While still on the bus, while still trapped in her own skull, she never guessed that her actual arrival would feel like one of those nightmares, where she had no control over what was happening; simply a passenger as she rode along and processed the experience. Where her body walked itself onto a bus after arriving at the South Park Mall, getting a split second to glimpse the tops of heads of other passengers who could not look up at her- only forward, to the backs of the seats in front of them... but even that sight was a fuzzy one, half covered-up by loose curls of wild, candy-red hair that she hadn't been able to claw back since she'd been captured on the road in town.

Of course, things hadn't stayed that way. The bus ride had begun in a place of horror and dread, but it was on that ride to her nightmares that an important encounter had occurred.

_Wendy _had dashed up to the front of the bus- she'd gotten her free will back by diving into a little logic puzzling... and walked her through it until she shook of Marie's influence as well.

The explanation had given her a headache, but at the time she had not cared; she was too busy hugging her friend for all she was worth, happy not to be going into this alone.

She was less happy with the plan- to play along until an opportunity to wreck the whole operation presented itself... but she'd managed to keep herself in check. She had, after Wendy spending nearly the whole ride cajoling her, managed to keep herself from firing out and punching Marie right in the stomach before she could put those earbuds on her and play her little _nap-time _command.

It hadn't been easy. Dee had tried to stay silent on the bus; surrounded by a bunch of recently primed people, people who could still _hear _and _remember, _people who were part of her home community? She didn't want to say a word over a whisper, but she hadn't seen any reason _not _to attack Marie on sight. She'd made gestures to get her point across, smacking her fist into an open hand to convey her desire to just _wreck Marie's shit- _that was the most direct route to end any danger, right?

"What if she commands everyone around you to die? Shouts it out, right as you hit her, or tells them to stop breathing?"

_That... _had a cooling effect. It was a use of her power... _their _power that Dee hadn't considered; something that could be done quickly if Marie realized she was about to be the subject of violence. Any hit would have to be a sucker punch, and any attack would have to put the woman out for the count... or kill her, lest she leverage her control over _everyone else. _

She knew it was possible. She'd used similar tactics in her encounter with the president- the priming noise had a base if-then command in it, one that made it so Ivanka couldn't breathe if she held any duplicitous intentions or tried to lie; it was what Dee had used to _force _her to agree to her terms... or quite literally suffocate to death. Realizing that an older version of herself, a more _experienced_ version who had, very effectively and quickly, taken control of an entire population, and who was not adverse to murder, probably would not hesitate on the extreme measures if it meant keeping control.

It was at that point that Dee realized something; that bus ride was bringing them into a hostage situation. It just wasn't _her _who was the hostage; it was everyone around her. _Everyone she knew, cared about, hated, loathed, or was mildly annoyed by- _they were all here, and they were depending on her and her friends.

They'd need to pick the right moment. _Exactly _the right moment_._

The fear was back when they arrived, and Dee did as Wendy told her; she played along. She let Marie handle her, despite _boiling _inside, and fell down when the command played in her ears told her to sleep. She stayed down, waiting until she heard Marie talking to the other passengers who'd gotten off the bus in one ear, and the squeal of a heavy door on the other. Wendy had been sent away, and sitting there against the wall, waiting for the next step, she risks sending a signal, not even knowing if it would be received.

She shifted her hand into a thumbs-up, and held it until she heard the door crashed closed.

Marie was identifying and commanding the groups who had been dropped off by the bus; singling out a member from each, asking them "What call did you respond to?" before getting an answer and telling them where to go to find tools, maps, and instructions. It was all... _very _well organized, and each group was sent off in turn, save two individuals.

No, one of the groups had identified themselves as lifters. The individual Marie spoke to was a voice Dee recognized- it was _Clyde. _And, while she'd been commanding the rest of that group to their gathering area, somewhere down in the lowest level of the complex, Marie had chosen two members of that group to stay behind. She didn't say there names, and there was sound like she'd physically grabbed them before saying "Wait, you two are with me."

Eyes closed, all Dee had was her ears. She listened as the rest of the group shuffled off, the heavy door at the corner of the room opened, and then banged closed once more. As far as she knew, the room had emptied, save for Marie and the two helpers she'd pulled from the muscle-head crew.

"You, lift them from under the shoulders. You, at their legs. Follow me, pass through doors I hold open, do not bump them against anything."

_Oh boy, time to move~_

The drawback to being sarcastic in her own head was that no one could hear it. She didn't want to be touched; it was the opposite of what she wanted right now. She was in the one place she never wanted to be, with a person who was apparently out to ruin her entire timeline, possibly her entire _universe, _trying to play dead and resisting every instinct she had to _fuck everyone up as hard as she physically knew how to do._

Getting picked up by strangers, letting her personal bubble be violated by individuals she could not see, was a terror that made her stomach drop to the floor. It wasn't just what happened on the road, maybe an hour ago- it was her _life. _Strangers invading her space, grabbing at her, was something she rejected as a _core part of her being_. It was something she'd been warned about as a child, taught to defend herself from, and held true as one of her primal fears. Touch was for a trusted few, when _she _allowed it... and now, playing dead, she didn't even have the comfort of swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, or screaming and kicking when grabbed.

She had to stay limp. _She needed Marie to believe she was helpless._

Hands grasped her, and they burned. _She _burned.

_Don't, just don't, think about what Wendy told you._

The first set of hands pulled her away from the wall. Her butt slid across the floor. Another set grasped her at the shins.

_Medusa's many-tongued clit tickling techniques, don't think about it, Lyssie, just don't fucking think about it- just hold still, just breathe-_

It had sounded easier when they talked about it- _just play along! _How hard was it to hold still, to just... _just hold the fuck still, _just keep her breath even, on a steady in-and-out, without a shudder or a shake?

Her body left the floor.

Her stomach flipped. Her breath caught. She couldn't let her body fall limp; tension persisted in her neck. Her head wanted to crane forward- she wanted to open her eyes, _just for a second, just to see who was holding her, maybe that would make it okay, maybe she could calm down if she knew who it was-_

_**Don't, don't you fucking dare you fucking taint-licking sack of used anal beads. **_

Exhale. She let the breath go, her head fell back.

Her heart was beating against her ribs. She could feel it, all the way up to her collar, sending fire into limbs that couldn't stand it. _It burned, it still fucking burned._

They began to move.

_I can't. _

The jerk was sudden, involuntary. One knee bent, and she yanked her leg away from one of the hands that held it. Her sudden twist was something her carriers had been unprepared for, their grasps failing as their charge began to thrash. In a few seconds, she landed hard on the concrete floor, but she didn't remain for long- no, _fuck no, _she was on her feet and she was _running. _

_I can't do this, I can't be here, I won't be here, I can't- I CAN'T DO THIS_

Her eyes were open, and two wild glances to the left and right were only to identify an exit. After all this time, after all the fear, the lost sleep, the paranoia, she was finally giving into the base instinct that had been screaming at her. She saw the long ramp up to the surface, the one the bus had driven down, and threw her body to _run._

Something hit her in the back. She felt the impact, more than the object. _Sharp. _Hard enough to push her shoulder forward, _jolt it._

She ignored it. She kept running. _Nothing mattered as long as she kept running. _

Her knees gave out. No one had shouted, no one had screamed. No new priming noise had drilled into her brain, but her legs failed, and her body met the cold floor with force- this time with no hands to stop her; her own fumbled and failed.

The thing that hit her back- it felt _cold. _Very cold. Icy water dousing the fire that had taken over. When she blinked, the room felt dimmer.

When she blinked again, the room was black.

_Gone._

* * *

Coming back to the lab, Mysterion felt a lot like he had the first time. He was a stowaway, like last time, having slipped onto a bus just as it was about to leave the mall... and, much like last time, he really had no idea what to _expect._

Oh, sure, he knew some of the basic layout. He remembered his mental map, the places he'd been, the things he'd seen... but the lab had been empty, quiet, save for two individuals. This time? This time, an entire _town's _worth of people was going to be in there, hard at work at getting it up and running. Worse, it was _his town's people, _which meant the probability of the laws of reality, physics, morality, or any combination there of getting compromised along the way were pretty high.

Hell, it sounded like some _temporal_ laws were already breaking down, and the main event hadn't even started yet. Marie's bullshit was just _forty years of pregame._

Mysterion had squirreled himself away in the on-board restroom of the bus, a marginally more comfortable hiding place than the last time he'd come here, not aware of what process might occur at the lab itself. It was best if he wasn't easily observable through windows, in case Marie had thought to post a watcher along the way. Instead he waited, waited until the bus got past the rough and bumpy terrain that came with leaving the highway, and the ride became smooth on a downward slope.

_The tunnel. _

Going down the tunnel, he still didn't come out. No, for the route he'd be taking out of the bus, that was not the right time. He waited until the bus arrived, parked, unloaded, and got moving again. It wasn't until the vehicle pitched upwards, going back _up _that slope on the return trip, that he emerged from the enclosed restroom and made his exit- out the emergency door at the back of the vehicle, tucking and rolling as he made the jump from the moving vehicle.

The impact still hurt; he was a mass of bruises after the trampling, but he grit is teeth and kept it together.

He couldn't hear anything- he'd put the ear plugs back in after his... _encounter _with Clean Eric. Engine noise was something he was aware of as it rumbled through his body, and he felt it recede quickly as he rolled down the tunnel slope for several feet. It was a danger; handicapping his senses to avoid getting tripped up, but the last thing he wanted was to get caught up in a command and have to try and find a funny enough memory to regain control of himself.

He'd just have to work carefully, and stay alert.

_Hey, who wanted this to be easy?_

Getting back down the tunnel, to the loading bay, he felt like he'd gotten a lucky break. The group of recently unloaded people appeared to be the only ones in residence; gathered loosely around a conical speaker sitting atop a box... no doubt a way for Marie to give orders without actually being present, but then where was the woman running the show? What would be more important than making sure her workers were getting to the right places in a timely manner?

_Alyssa got captured. Maybe she's already causing trouble? … that could be good or bad, depending on what happened._

Either way, no one was looking up or back, which meant he was free to come out of the tunnel and into the loading bay itself. His path went to the far right at first, towards the pair of trucks parked against the wall. He recognized them both; Shitty Eric's busted pick-up, and Marie's rented hauling truck. Tucked up against cover, at least for a second, he paused and watched the small mob. A group had separated from the others, heading for the door that he knew led to the stairwell and down into the complex proper. The group was almost entirely kids- little ones under the age of ten... with a key exception.

_Karen._

Seeing her was a shock to Mysterion's system. He hadn't even _thought _about it, but of _course _she'd gotten hit. Even if she hadn't checked her phone during school, _Tricia and Ike never put theirs away. _The whole gang was probably here- fuck, _their whole school. _

Watching her disappear past that door nearly made him do the dumb thing. _Very _nearly... but he composed himself. Marie still hadn't done any directed harm... _yet. _

Which was good, because if she did, _he'd _be doing some directed harm to her _skull._

As the group departed, Mysterion considered a possible act of sabotage. The drones hadn't cared about him when he'd boarded the bus- they hadn't even _looked _at him. Could they even articulate to Marie, or anyone else, that they saw him? He was willing to bet the couldn't, not unless Marie specifically allowed it. He hadn't been able to control _anything _when he'd been under her influence. See, hear, remember? Sure. Speak? No. He'd tried.

Darting away from the cover of the trucks, he slipped right through the milling mass. Another group had separated off- their orders must have come through, and they were heading for the door to the stairs. The speaker that had been set up looked to be a fairly nice one; cone shaped with buttons on top. Up close, he could mildly hear the sound coming from it through the earplugs, and the thing was loud enough that it was mildly vibrating.

Tapping the power button on top, the faint and muffled sound he could hear was cut off. No more groups would be receiving orders until someone turned it back on.

He rushed away from the scene, on to the black stairwell and down a level. He didn't worry about noise; he could feel the steps of the group ahead of him through the metal railing, clattering far more than his singular set of footfalls. He descended a single flight, to the first landing, and ducked out the door.

In an instant, he was in the main lab again.

It felt different, now. On the upper most level of three, he could look down and see not just the space itself, but _movement; _people with materials and tools scurrying along walkways. The dead husk of a thing he'd observed before, too big, too empty, took on new energy as the people of his town took up the task of resurrecting the monster. There were work crews on the system of catwalks that made a grid pattern above the lab itself, replacing burnt out bulbs with fresh ones and strengthening the sterile blue-white light that illuminated the lab down below. One layer down, panels on old electrical boxes were open, old wiring being examined, stripped, patched, replaced, all while any number of kids, not unlike his sister, hurried back and forth with the materials to carry out the repairs, acting as porters.

It was the lowest level that caught his attention, though. A group had formed, at least fifty strong, that were not doing much of anything. They were near the machine- the desks surrounding that central silver monster had been cleared of old loose papers, but the machines atop them did not look to have power yet. Mysterion was certain those people had a job to do, _of course _they'd have a job to do, else Marie would not have them here... but they were just milling around.

_I don't like that._

He remained still for a moment, considering, calculating. Everything was _busy _in this room; repairs were getting carried out. How could he disrupt that? What trouble could he cause that would get Marie's attention without fully tipping his hand that he was here?

_Where was Alyssa?_

A memory, a notation on his mental map. Eyes scanned over the lowest floor, looking at the doors set into the walls and the block letter headings that denoted what they were. The far wall, opposite of the cargo elevator, smack dab in the middle, double doors...

_CONTAINMENT._

Yeah, that sounded like the right place to start.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

:3

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	13. Waterlogged

**::End of The Line – Waterlogged::**

Slipping by without anyone noticing him, even if he made brief eye-contact with them, was something strange to Mysterion.

He supposed they _did _notice him, they just couldn't do anything about it. Passing by people still under Marie's control, still carrying out the tasks they were assigned, he knew the exact state they were in; awake but only along for the ride. Watching, feeling, seeing, but unable to react.

The fact that he was slipping by without anyone giving him a second glance, or even trying to capture him, was a good sign. It signaled to him that Marie was _overconfident; _she hadn't included any direction to her drones on what to do if they saw an intruder or someone who had shaken off their conditioning, nor had she assigned anyone specific to act as security... but it was strange.

He was used to people reacting like this when he wasn't wearing the costume. Kenny was the one who always passed without a trace, overlooked and forgotten. Mysterion was the one who had to hide because he had a habit of causing a stir, what with the whole _vigilante infamy. _Hurrying along the catwalk at the edge of the lab's uppermost level, past people carrying fresh bulbs for the light crew and lengths of cable for the electrical workers, he felt more like a ghost than when he'd actually _been _one.

At least he wasn't stuck possessing Eric's shitty body, or a pot roast. Of his experiences of being a spirit out of his own flesh, he'd probably name _burning to death as an animatronic _as one of the better experiences. He'd had control of his vessel and machine strength... and no one _ate _him.

Dodging his way down the catwalk, he kept his eyes scanning; both the way ahead and the lab down below. He remembered conversations he overheard the last time he was here, between Marie and Eric; they'd been arguing about how long it would take to get main power back online, and discussing the issue of the bottom floor being _flooded. _He'd encountered the stairway to the flooded section, too, which had been labeled as 'MAIN POWER'. Marie had stressed, over and over, that without power there was no way to get the machine up and running, and the thing was going to need the juice of the main generator. _That _was on the lowest level; _all _the way down. Meanwhile, the double-door entry to the section labeled CONTAINMENT, where he suspected his partner would be held, was on the bottom level of the lab; just two floors below him.

He wanted to avoid the main floor of the lab if he could; the space was too open with too little cover. Marie had to be _somewhere, _and even if he did have ear protection... she was surrounded by a thousand hostages. More than that, according to Mister Freeman, the woman had been a government operative in her youth; that suggested a willingness to get the job done dirty, and that she wouldn't hesitate on violence if she found him. It also made it _extremely _likely she was packing a firearm. Getting seen was not an option, and that meant staying close to possible cover; doors, boxes, tight corridors, and shadows would all be his friends.

In his head, he considered the mental map of the place he'd constructed on his last visit. He'd left behind one stairwell, the one that connected to the loading dock, but he knew there was another one on the far side of this main room- across from the cargo elevator and slightly off-center. Lining up the floors, that stairwell had to come down near Containment. Looking across the way, he could see the door for it on his level, and followed the line downwards to the mid-tier of the lab... _yes, _another door, both labeled 'STAIRWELL B' in yellow block letters above their frames. Eyes descending further, he didn't see an exit into the lab on the main level, but that was fine. The middle floor of the lab had stairwells cut into it that allowed access to the bottom floor, what he considered _the pit _with the way it was set below the ring of computer power on the middle floor. That would get him very close to the double-doors into Containment, and minimize his time out in the open.

_Perfect. _

His plan stumbled a second after he made it.

With a goal, his eyes had tracked back to the entrance to Stairwell B on the top floor. He was about to hook the corner on the catwalk and make his way to it... when the door opened, and a familiar face emerged out of it.

Marie.

The woman looked focused, arriving at the top floor of the laboratory and stepping out of the stairwell whilst holding the door. Mysterion didn't wait to see whom she was holding it for, however, instead ducking low and searching for a place to hide- there was a grouping of boxes, but they were barely piled high enough to serve as cover. There was a set of doors a few feet behind him, too, but he didn't know if he could dive past them fast enough to disappear.

She was looking away from him, into the stairwell for whomever was following her. He had a few seconds, _decision time._

_Doors._

He doubled back, ducked low as he dipped around someone carrying a plastic crate and damn near knocking them off-balance. He saw the doors he remembered; a double set with padding on the edges to prevent them from crashing together every time they opened and closed. He threw a hand out, to test them before the rest of his body arrived at pace, and felt a rush of victorious adrenaline when they opened and he was able to pass through in the space of a breath.

_Darkness; _passing through the doors was to pass from the light of the lab into the darkness of a section that had no power. There were windows in the door behind him, letting in dim squares of blue-white light that revealed a long hallway floored in cheap beige vinyl. The walls were, for once, not metal; instead looking like stone or concrete with a coat of brownish-green paint that had bubbled and blistered in places due to all the water damage this place had suffered. The main hallway was as wide as the double doors behind him, and had intersections with thinner hallways that stretched off to the sides. He was actually _standing _in one of those intersections, he realized, as he glanced left and right for his next step. The hallway that stretched off to his sides was thinner than the main vein, and there wasn't enough light to see what was down them.

That made them an ideal place to hide, but he wouldn't take the first intersection. Too easy to shine a flashlight down, and he could have been stuffing himself in a dead end. No, he charged ahead, to the next intersection down, and took the sharp left to dive into that side hallway and away from the light.

About a minute later, he heard the doors swing open again.

_Adrenaline _pounded through him. Had Marie seen him come in here? Were the doors the type that swung both ways on their hinges, and she'd seen them moving after he'd come through? No, no, he would have noticed variations in light if that were the case, he would have seen the central sliver opening up and closing if the doors had been swinging, and he hadn't.

_Calm down; maybe someone's here to try and restore power to this section. Or maybe there's a storage closet over here. It could be a drone._

In the darkness, a few yards into the side hallway, he tucked himself up against the wall anyway. He assumed there had to be doors along these hallways; the set-up reminded him a little bit of a hotel... or a _dorm, _maybe.

Given a second to consult his mental map, he actually knew which doors he'd ducked through. _Habitation- _he remembered noting the padded edges. If this area was a dorm for people who used to work in the lab, the padded edges of the door were probably a consideration to not waking people on different shifts and sleep schedules.

Gloved hands began carefully tracing along the wall, searching for anything that felt like a door or frame, while straining his ears to listen. He heard a set of footfalls advancing into the space... and a second set. _Two _people had entered.

"Here." A voice spoke. Female, older- _Marie. _"You will stay in this area until directed otherwise, unless an evacuation order is sounded or other life-threatening peril occurs. You may rest in this room, and use the attached bathroom as needed."

As she spoke, he heard a door opening. The person she was speaking to didn't respond, but he heard footfalls; presumably as they advanced into the indicated room.

_Who is she putting here? Why is she letting someone rest? … did someone get hurt? _

The door was closed. He heard the latch _snick _into place, and then a single set of footfalls returned to the main doors into the section, and then past them. The hinges swung, the light in the main hallway briefly brightened as a central beam was opened up, and then they were closed again.

His hands hadn't found any doors in his immediate area, but that was beside the point; he had a new side objective, and it was finding out what the heck all _that _had been about. He moved up quickly, remaining ducked low on instinct as he let his hand trail along the wall. Moving back towards the intersection, he _did _find door frames set into the wall; he counted two before he made it back to where the hallways crossed, and the space _sounded_ big enough that there had to be a few dozen rooms if the spacing was consistent.

More places on his mental map; sketched in locations that might become relevant later. For now, he scurried into the dim light of the main hall and made a quick assessment. He hadn't noticed when he first arrived, but there were doors that also faced into the main, wider hallway that extended directly from the doors to the lab. Peering through the murk, he could identify four doors per intersection, two per side of the hall... and he had only heard Marie and her follower advanced a few steps into the space, so it had to be one of the first four doors nearest to the entrance.

The first door he tried opened easily into a yet blacker space. Away from the hall, with no interior lights, it was impossible to see what was within the room... but the sound quality was different. _Softer. _He realized after a second it was because the flooring changed again- these rooms had carpet... and as a result, smelled of mildew after years of high humidity only encouraged the water damage that had taken hold of the rest of the facility and begun rusting through its metal walls.

The next was like the first; pitch black and swampy smelling. He perceived no movement, no signs of life.

The next was different. From the entrance, it was the first door on the right side of the hallway. Like the others, it opened without resistance... but doing so made him squint.

There was _light _in this room.

Yellow light; a warm incandescent bulb shining from a camping lantern, tied with string to a ceiling fan. With light, he could see within the room after a few hasty blinks, and understand the space as a fairly bare-bones dormitory with green-gray carpet, a bed, and a thin standing wardrobe. There was another door to his immediate right, possibly to an attached bathroom... but he wasn't fussing over details at that second.

No, his attention had been stolen by the occupants of the room, of which there were two.

"_Wendy? Stan?!" _

Mysterion whispered as he passed through the door, barely keeping his situational awareness enough to close it behind him and cut off the warm source of light into the hallway behind him. No, he'd stepped into this room expecting to find some rando he didn't fucking know who had been hurt and set aside until shit was over. Instead, he found not one but _two _of his friends tucked away by themselves, quarantined from the rest of the work force for some reason.

"_Kenny!" _

Wendy responding to him might have shocked him more than anything else. Both she and Stan had been standing in the room, just before the bed... he assumed they were both still _drones, _under control and unable to fight. Instead, while Stan passed further into the room and sat down on the bed, Wendy turned right around with brightly aware eyes and greeted him with as much shock as he had given her.

Hugs were exchanged, but the burst of relief was cut short. This wasn't the time for a tearful reunion. Mysterion pulled away, but Wendy kept hold of him by the shoulders before he could disengage completely.

"_Holy... _what _happened _to you? Are you okay?"

"Got control back in the middle of a crowd and tripped- nearly got trampled to death."

"I _told you _the cape was a bad design choice." Wendy reminded him. "The logic loophole, right? She nullifies her own commands by telling us not to listen to Dee."

Mysterion blinked. That made... _too much _sense. Of course Wendy would find the hole in the whole command to shut the whole process down. "Uh... _no. _Buttlord figured out a general release mechanism- _humor. _If you can get someone to laugh, it breaks the control."

It was reassuring to see her experience a similar measure of surprise at what he'd discovered within his group. She was quiet for a second, lips pursing together. "... don't suppose it's been long enough since the _fish sticks _joke that it would still slap with most of the town, has it?"

_Oh god, that fucking joke- _

He couldn't help stifling a chuckle. He hadn't thought about the _gay fish _joke in a year or two; long enough that it certainly still got him, even without the back-and-forth of getting someone with it.

Behind Wendy, someone else did the same.

"_Heh- fish sticks in your mouth... oh man, that was a good one." _

"Stan!"

Wendy nearly squealed, rounding away from Mysterion. Sure enough, Stan had blinked away the glazed over look on his face, collapsing from the straight posture he'd been holding and instantly putting his head in his hands.

"_Oooh... oh shit... ow..." _

"You okay, man?" Mysterion followed after Wendy, who bent to sit next to Stan. One of her hands grasped him by the shoulder, the other gently laying over the back of one of his hands as he held his head. In the singular light of the battery powered lantern strung up above them, he could see that Wendy's brown eyes had gone wide with concern, desperate to do something to help despite her own exhaustion. He'd been able to tell by her voice; she was still tired and congested- _sick._

_They were both sick._

_Quarantine _might have been a more accurate word than he knew when he'd first come in.

"_I'm fuckin' sick, dude..." _Stan complained, sniffling after he groaned in pain. "Ugh... _my head... _I took meds, but they wore off... _fuck _I'm so cold..."

"You're soaked." Wendy observed quietly. It was a detail Mysterion hadn't picked up on right away, but she was right. Stan's clothes were all wet from the chest-down. "... she put you to work, right? Where did she send you?"

"_Down." _Stan answered. "All the way down... there's a flooded level at the bottom of this place. I got grouped with a bunch of people who know pipes and... and.. a..."

A pause as Stan was rocked by a violent sneeze. Wendy produced a pack of pocket tissues, from which he greedily took a number that were quickly crumpled into a wad as he blew his nose.

"... _thanks..." _He muttered faintly before going on. "... pipes and pumps. We set up things to pump water out of the flooded level and into a main drain pipe, but... something was off."

"Off?" Mysterion asked.

"The place we were draining the water... I figure it must be a main pipe out of this place, like a sewer main, but it was _too big... _and I could hear the water flow."

"This place is huge, and leaking all over the place. Have you seen all the rust?" Mysterion pointed out. "Ground water has to be eating away at this place like no-one's business."

"_It's too much." _Stan argued, using his wad of tissues to cover his mouth as another sneeze made his face twist up with its imminent arrival. As if in response, Wendy had to pull away to deal with a fit of her own, drawing out a couple tissues for herself after the fact.

"... well don't you two sound _healthy." _

"It's why we got pulled." Wendy sniffled. "I broke control before I arrived, but I was playing along in hopes to getting to something important... I had a sneezing fit when the bus dropped us off, and Marie realized I was running a fever. She asked me if anyone else was sick- sounded like she was worried about mistakes."

"Wait, wait... _you played along _after getting off the bus? _And she bought it?" _Stan quested after blowing his nose again. "_Nice." _

"Hehe... I guess." Wendy turned faintly bashful. "I'm thinking about drama club..."

"_Ahem." Mysterious_ cleared his throat. "Stan, you were saying?"

"_Fuck, right... _the water damage- this is too much for just ground water, unless this place was built _really _badly... and the flooding- the water is _too clear." _

"_Too clear?" _Wendy parroted. "I don't... what does that mean?"

"If it was just ground water draining into the place from the soil around it, it would stagnate once it found a place to settle." Stan explained. "With all the metal, the water we're pumping out of the bottom floor should be brownish with the rust, or _green _with sludge as stuff grows in it... but I saw it in the light. It was clear."

"... that bottom floor is a power plant for the facility." Mysterion observed, thinking back on the conversations he'd heard between Marie and Eric as they discussed repairs.

They never mentioned _what kind _of power generator it was.

"Hydro-power." Mysterion murmured. "This place is built on top of an _underground river." _

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

I went to a party last night and danced my heart out.

It was so much fun, and a great way to kick off the new year.

Happy 2020 y'all, I hope the holidays treated you well, and here's sending everyone good vibes to carry on into the coming year.

Remember that the best vibes you can send me are reviews letting me know you're still enjoying my work :3

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	14. The Ticking Clock

**::End Of The Line – The Ticking Clock::**

"... if this place runs on hydro power, and they abandoned it, wouldn't they have locked the control gates in the open position before they left?"

"You're putting a _lot_ of confidence in a government agency, Wendy." Stan responded flatly as he sniffled back, wiping his face. "But how does that help us? So what, the place was built for water-power. _They're draining the basement, _the pipes and pumps we were building were basically creating a _bypass _so the teams could get at wherever the main leak was."

"... why would it leak?"

Mysterion was musing aloud, but the question caused Stan to do something of a double-take.

"_Why would it leak? Dumbass, _it's like putting your finger over an open faucet; the water pressure against a closed or collapsed gate would build and build until it broke-"

"If the control gates broke, wouldn't the river just flow through _that?" _Mysterion shot back. "_Why is the rest of the facility leaking?"_

"_... it's the dam." _

Wendy muttered this revelation softly.

"The whole facility, _the whole laboratory is the dam- _the river is probably one that swells up with snow melt each year, and goes down to a trickle in the winter... _unless _they damned it up and created an underground reservoir where it wouldn't freeze. The building isn't underground just to _hide _it; everything is intercon—aah-"

Wendy reeled back, barely stuffing her wad of tissues over her face as she let off an explosive sneeze.

"_...Interconnected... ugh... I hate being sick..." _She grumbled.

"Which means this place isn't just neglected, _it's actively falling apart thanks to the water pressure." _Mysterion nearly clapped his hands together. "You guys, _this is great- _destructive force, all lined up, we just need to encourage the walls to come down!"

"... with the entire town inside the facility?" Stan quested somewhat dryly.

"Obviously we need to get everyone out before that." Wendy sniffed. "... but it _does_ give us an angle of attack. Now we just need to hook back up with Dee."

"You know where Dee is?" Mysterion demanded; diving in past those doors was the best decision he could have made- gut feelings for the win yet a again.

"Not exactly." Wendy winced. "... but when we were on the bus, I told him the same logical loophole I figured out that got me out of it, so he should be okay as far as Marie's _influence _is concerned."

"_What _loophole?" Stan quested. "And who is this Marie person? _What does she want?" _

"Oh, _uh..." _Wendy hesitated, looking to Mysterion. He didn't rush to answer, either; Wendy's loophole was related to Alyssa's identity, and while Stan knew about the _time travel _and such, he still didn't know about the _other _thing.

The _girl _thing. It felt like a bad time to spring it on the poor guy.

"Oh, _what? _C'mon, guys, I'm soaked to my armpits and dying of the flu in some underground bullshit bunker, _you could at least tell me who the hell the bad guy is. _What, is this some _kid from the distant future _crap who inherited Dee's abilities and didn't like how their life turned out? Is that what's going on here? … _oh god, Wendy, are you the mom?!" _

"_WHAT?! Oh my god, no!" _

"I knew it... I _knew _it, Dee _was _trying to move in on you- _that sneaky son of a..." _

"_I AM NOT MARIE'S MOTHER! DO YOU THINK I'D NEGLECT A KID BAD ENOUGH FOR THEM TO GO EVIL?!" _

Mysterion felt this was... probably the _best _time for a sneaky exit. Sadly, disappearing and letting them shout at each other wasn't an option; not unless he wanted Marie to come back and investigate.

Hopefully Alyssa would forgive him.

"Dude!" Kenny snapped, breaking character while stepping up between the squabbling couple, reaching out to take both of them by the shoulder. "_That's not it. _It's Dee- Marie is an alternate-universe future version of Dee."

"_Kenny-" _Wendy hissed, eyes going wide, but he shot her a look that told her to _save it. _

"Wait, like some Earth Eleven shit?"

"... Earth Eleven?" Wendy quested. Kenny shifted his attention back to Stan.

"Yeah, in DC comics they have an alternate universe where everyone's gender-flipped and that universe is called Earth Eleven. Is it kinda like that, and Marie is from the future and came to fuck with Dee when they're still a kid and kinda helpless?"

"I... _I mean..." _

Wendy trailed off, forced to turn away again as she went into another fit of sneezing.

"Something like that." Kenny agreed. "It's all about the machine- did you see it, in the middle of the big room?"

"The silver chair with the ball on the platform? Yeah, I saw it, it looked... dangerous. That thing is set up to take a _lot _of juice. What _is _that thing?"

"It's something the government built, and Marie came to this universe before Dee was born to help them put it together, _specifically _because she wants to strap Dee into that thing and use it to get rid of their powers- the voice thing and the time travel. I don't know what she wants after that, but that thing has a _sky high mortality rate- _probably _fifty-fifty _odds it'll just _**fry **_him._ We cannot let Dee get strapped into that thing." _

"Marie needs... _ugh... _power before she can do anything with that thing." Wendy interjected, once again blowing her nose. She was gonna tare through that pocket pack of tissues in an hour at this rate; faster if she kept sharing with Stan. Then again, _sharing with Stan _is how he ended up sick in the first place. "... but when did you find out what it does?"

"Kartwright helped." Kenny responded, before clearing his throat and getting back into _Mysterion _mode. "I can tell you all the details later; what matters is that we come at this thing from as many directions as possible. Stan, do you think you can make enough sense of that machine to _fuck it up?" _

"_Probably." _Stan shrugged. "High voltage means there's a lot of ways for things to go wrong... and I know where all the tools are, thanks to the work section I got assigned to. Nothing a big hammer and a blowtorch can't break."

"Good." Mysterion nodded. "Wendy, think you can gum up the works for the computer banks? Those things looked like they were from the 80's, I know it's a little older than you're used to..."

"Psh, _hardware _isn't hard to fuck with." She waved his concerns off. "So long as Marie is _somewhere else, _I can monkey with things... what are you gonna do?"

Was that even a question?

"_Get. My. Partner." _

"... jeez, you've _really _ditched the whole _working alone _thing, huh man?" Stan observed. "Guess Batman kinda _needs_ a Robin... think you could get Dee to wear the tights?"

"Hard no." Wendy snickered. "We already asked."

* * *

Dee wasn't quite sure where she was when she came to. Waking up wasn't a process that happened all at once. No, it happened slowly, with brief windows opening and closing on her senses. Her nose caught the scent of fuel and exhaust, and then her skin made her aware that she was on some kind of padded surface. Eyes blearily opened, blinked against dim white lights, and then fell closed again while she heard steps moving through a space near her. Each came and went in turn, giving her information that failed to create a picture, and refused to order itself in a way that made any sense.

When things did start making sense, the first consistent sensation she understood was _pain. _Pain in her shoulder, where she remembered a sharp impact. Pain in her face, hands, elbows, and knees; every bony part of her body that had been involved in a fall on concrete. Pain in her...

_Oh no._

A sense of _violation _flared up around a dull ache between her ass cheeks that invaded upwards; one she instantly flexed around to try and _reject, _but was only rewarded with a much _sharper _and more pronounced pain for the trouble- as if she were being stabbed from within her anal cavity.

It felt like someone had inflated a _razor-wire wrapped balloon _in there.

_What kind of twisted MLP Brony porn went down while I was out?!_

Hands pressed her body upwards against the force of gravity, despite the soreness of her palms. She rose up high enough to drag her knees beneath her, and gingerly begin setting her body back to a kneeling position from where she'd been before; unconscious and lying on her stomach. She felt... _slow, _groggy, and had to shake her head to prevent herself from falling back over beneath the weight in her bones that told her she could just go back to sleep. Even better to fight against the encroaching blackness was _sharp stabs _of unpleasant pressure from within her own body, once again making sphincters flex and tighten without her actively choosing to do so, and making her jaw grit tightly together as she hissed out between her teeth.

"I'd take it slow, if I were you."

A voice. Near her, but muffled. Like they were on the other side of a thin wall...? Her eyes wouldn't stay open- she shuddered her head again, followed by rolling her shoulders up to her cheeks before letting them relax back down, attempting to re-engage with her body through the too-warm fuzz of an unnatural sleep. She finally got blurry images back, obstructed by curly trusses of her hair that were clawed out of her face by a clumsy hand. With the hair pulled back, her eyes registered... a bed. She was kneeling on a narrow bed... no, not a bed. _Just a mattress, _on a... carpeted? No, _padded. A padded floor. _In a room with padded walls- all cream colored.

_A padded cell._

The light was dim, and came from a bulb somewhere above her that was set into the ceiling and flush with it.

"That's it... one step at a time."

The voice, again, centering her consciousness, dragging her attention over to her right side. To a wall that was different than the others; one that had a door set into it, and a window with wire mesh reinforcing it. It also had a metal plate set into it, with little holes; big enough to let a voice through, but too narrow to even squirm a pinky finger out.

Through the window, she could see a face.

_Marie._

"_There _she is... hello again, Little Lyssie. Looks like you're determined to cause trouble, aren't you? … slipped free of my commands, despite my best efforts to design one even _you _couldn't wiggle out of."

"... _you..." _

The word felt slurred as it fell out of her mouth. Had she been drugged? She felt like it. She felt slow, and unstable- like when the drinks at Bebe's Halloween party had gotten spiked with three different kinds of booze, but not at all _fun. _She forced one of her legs off of the mattress where she'd been laid out, trying to get a foot beneath herself despite the _pain _that moving caused- pain that felt like it was going to split her entire body in two from the asshole up if she made any too-sudden movements.

"What... the _fuck..." _

She lurched upwards, staggering and hissing between her teeth again. Her other foot met the floor, and she managed to arrive at a somewhat hunched standing position.

"Did you _stick... up my __**ass?" **_

"I couldn't have you warping away." Marie responded simply, not at all answering the question. "... I wouldn't suggest attempting to _remove _it, though. You're going to want a _professional _for that kind of operation."

"... _fuck you, I controlled an alien probe with my ass for a weekend, I can fart around whatever spiky ball you shoved up there." _

"An alien anal probe with a _smooth _design, I wager?" Marie responded without skipping a beat. "Straight sides, hard material, maybe some texture? What I placed in your rectum is a little more... _pear shaped- _with a flanged base, _of course. _It's a device that's inserted and then _expanded _once inside- based off a sex toy, but with a little modification..."

"You mean you put fucking _razor blades on the outside?!" _

"I assure you, it won't hurt you unless you try to pull it out or exercise your... _abilities _around it." Marie promised. "If you _do, _well... I hope you're okay with wearing diapers the rest of your life. You won't be able to collapse it by yourself, either- I'm afraid you'll need a special _key." _

_One you just so happen to have, I'll bet... what the **fuck **do you want, Marie? … why are you doing this? **Any **of this?_

Dee didn't wanna talk anymore. She'd stumbled her way closer to the door, but she'd lapsed back into her usual silence, _glaring _at the woman on the other side.

"I knew you'd rip yourself up if I wasn't here to warn you off of it... I really don't mean you any harm, Alyssa. I'm doing this for you. _All of it. It's all for you. _I know you don't believe that right now- you're probably planning at least six different ways to shatter my face... but you'll see. Before this is over, you'll understand why I did it."

_Oh for fuck's sake, really? The **I'm doing it for the right reasons **speech?!_

"_... bullshit. _You took over the town, you captured my friends, and you shoved a _leather cactus pear _up my ass- cause why? _Cause you couldn't let the future **be **the future." _

Dee realized it now. After everything she'd heard; from both Morgan and Kartwright, she knew exactly why Marie was doing this.

"You never had to learn that lesson, did you? Someone was always giving orders, you never fucked up on your own and had to clean up your own mess- _you never learned that sometimes you __**can't **__un-fuck something, that you just gotta __**live with the mistakes **__sometimes! _All you had to do was _take Eric back to his new future, and you would have made a thru-line! _Instead you _stayed, _and _looped back, _and made it all a _tangled mess- cause you couldn't just let it go!" _

Dee wasn't sure when she started shouting. She'd made it all the way to the padded door of the padded room, hands landing against the wall to brace her floppy body. She could see Marie on the other side, watch as the woman stared at her with progressively wider and wider green eyes.

The expression on her face changed suddenly; to a glower as the door suddenly rattled with the force of the woman on the other side plowing her fist into it, causing a sharp _BANG! _to sound.

"_YOUR LIFE AS YOU KNOW IT WOULDN'T EXIST WITHOUT ME YOU UNGRATEFUL CART OF JIZZ STAINED PLAYBOYS!" _

Dee didn't flinch. Maybe it was because there was nowhere to run. Maybe it was because she'd already tried running once, and her stupid brain no longer considered it a viable option. Whatever the reason... she didn't have any fear left in her at the moment. If she was scared of anything, she wasn't feeling it. She stared at Marie's enraged face without terror.

_Cause you were trying to get me **here**\- to do to me what they did to **you.**_

"_No- no, no, no-" _

Marie stepped back, shaking her head. Her outburst suddenly changed gears, and rage became remorse. It sounded as if she might _cry._

"_It doesn't matter. You won't understand. You can't... I did it all for you. Every step, it was necessary, exactly how it had to be..." _

… _okay, that tone is sounding a little familiar, and in the worst possible way. Muttering like that, you sound like __**Amelia- **__y'know, the cat lady who lost her fucking mind after she got put through that machine. Is that where you're at, Marie? Did you drop your marbles and lose the bag a couple decades ago? _

… _do you even __**know **__what you're doing? _

"Marie..." She paused, shook her head. "_Alyssa... _tell me what you're doing. Maybe... _maybe I'll understand if you explain it to me." _

On the other side of the glass, Marie blinked. She'd recoiled from the door when her mood swung, hands half-way to holding her head but hovering in the air, just short of contact. She looked up, and the pair of them shared a moment of eye contact where Dee felt as if she were looking at a child. Not an old woman, but a _scared kid _who never got the chance to grow up.

"... splits on splits." She muttered faintly. "I'm going to cut the tether. There's too many anchors on the line, and if it _snaps, _everything will unravel. _It'll all fall apart. _But _you- _you're not there yet. _You're not an anchor, not yet, you haven't been doing it as long as us. _If I can _stop you, _then all I have to do is..."

She trailed off, shuddered, and shook her head.

"The right thing. _The only thing."_

… _please tell me you're not saying you're gonna kill yourself. Y'know, **the thing Morgan said would collapse the entire set of universes in which we, Alyssa Ostenmayer, exist.**_

Desperately, Dee was trying to think of something she could _say _to the woman, something that would talk her out of her plan... but there wasn't a chance. Something happened at that moment, something unexpected, that Dee didn't fully comprehend at that second... but once she did, it made her painfully clench around the spiked ball Marie had stuck up her ass.

The lights brightened. The bulb inside her cell, something that had been dim and flickering, suddenly brightened to full strength. Lights out in the hall, above Marie, lights that were either dim or dark suddenly kicked on to full brightness. A _hum _suddenly picked up as a faint background noise from elsewhere.

Bathed in bright light, Marie's head jerked upwards, staring for a few seconds before looking back down. Her mood had changed again. She was no longer uncertain, upset, or falling apart.

No, she was back in control, and she wore a faint smile.

_The power was back._

"Sit tight, Little Lyssie... it'll be over soon."

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

HOW'S THAT FOR SOME THINGS AND STUFF?

I am so very grateful to everyone who takes the time to leave reviews, even just little stuff. It matters more to me than you know- every little e-mail is a shot of excitement from knowing you guys are reading and enjoying my work. Y'all are cool cats :D

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	15. Scripted Actions

**::End Of The Line – Scripted Actions::**

Mysterion exited the room quietly, leaving Stan and Wendy to work on their game plan before they took off for their own tasks. Back out in the dark hallway, barely illuminated by the light coming in from the lab, he took a second to _breathe _as he pulled the door shut behind him. The _snick _of the latch was a satisfying sound in the silence, but he knew it didn't mean safety for his friends.

No, they were all about to go into risky territory. Stan and Wendy would be working out in the open; if Marie came up to check on the lab, she would probably see them, and whatever delays they'd set up would be discovered and undone... but Mysterion was depending on those delays. He needed every second he could milk out of this- long enough to find his partner and figure out how to evacuate everyone before busting this place down so no one else could use it or rebuild it ever again.

Stealing that deep inhale and long exhale felt like the last seconds of peace he'd get for a _long _time, and he let it linger in the dark for the moment he had.

Out of that dark, something grabbed him.

How they had gotten so close without making a sound, he did not know. The first hand arrived over his mouth; covered with a tough glove that wouldn't care if he bit into it, but his teeth made the attempt anyway. Feet kicked out towards the door he just shut, trying to cause some kind of _noise, _but he was pulled backwards before he could connect as the other hand was followed by an arm that secured around his chest. Whomever had grabbed him, their approach was from directly behind, and they were tall enough to lift him clear off his feet and begin _carrying _him elsewhere.

Deeper into the dark, in fact. Away from the double doors that went back to the lab, and then into one of the side hallways that was nothing but pitch black shadow.

His back arched as he tried to wriggle and writhe away, throwing elbows out to try and catch the body of the person who had lifted him up, kicking at the air to make himself a difficult burden to carry. All of this didn't seem to bother them, though; he felt strength in the arm around his body, tightly secured and not allowing him to shift even a fraction of an inch as he struggled against the living restraint. The hand over his mouth was, likewise, as still as stone and strong enough that he couldn't even whip his head back and forth whilst the fingers were curled around the shape of his jaw.

His awareness was still keeping track of his map; with him looking at the door, he was carried off to his left when they entered a side hallway- what would have been his right if he were facing forward and not being carried backwards into the dark.

That same awareness reminded him that the side hallways were _thinner _than the main hall, and he stopped trying to stab his bony elbows back into his abductor. Instead, he threw his arms out, desperately trying to find the walls to grasp at any protruding feature. Fingertips _just _brushed something... before the person who'd grabbed him turned their body and, in turn, _his _body so they were side-stepping down the hall.

His hands still groped out, forward in the dark, but found nothing to grab onto.

"_Shh... it's okay, Kenny." _

A soft voice behind his head. Adult, whispering, gentle.

_A voice that knew his name._

"The power is going to come back soon. Marie's work crews are pulling the collapsed gate out of its housing right now, and the river is going to start flowing again. You won't be able to get Alyssa out of her cell, but you _can _still help her. I'll tell you how, but you _can't_ yell for Stan and Wendy when I put you down... they have their own jobs to do."

… _who is that? It sounds like... It sounds like Kartwright, kinda, but the cadence is a bit off. Is that...?_

Mysterion blinked. Another one. Just like a version of Eric, an adult version of Eric, had pulled him out from being trampled, there was someone _else _here whom he both _did _and _didn't _know- another version of another one of his friends, all grown up, who seemed to know _exactly _what was going on.

Their hand loosened, enough that he could move his head, and he made a small nod to signal he had no intent to run or scream. The hand pulled the rest of the way off of his face, and he was lowered to the floor and allowed to regain his feet.

"... _Alyssa?" _

There was a faint chuckle in the dark.

"Let's go _save my ass, _shall we?"

"But- _wait-" _He could barely hear her steps- this version of Alyssa upped her stealth game something hardcore, and it was up to him to scramble down the dark hallway and follow after her while trying to keep his brain from exploding. He had _so many _questions, and there was a strange kind of panic to which ones he'd have the chance to ask before this encounter ended. "How did you- _why are you- who else is here? What's going on? _Eric saved me from getting trampled back out in town, and-"

He stumbled on his own words, feeling as if someone had whacked him in the back of a skull with a golf club.

"_Holy shit it's a loop, isn't it- you! _You're from _this _timeline's future, and this- _this has already happened for you!" _

"Got it in one, _as usual." _

"... then it all comes out okay?"

She didn't answer him right away. Her steps stopped, and something about the quality of the sound made him think they'd reached the end of the hallway. He heard a few thumps; the sound of knuckles rapping against a wall. The sound was solid the first few times... but one strike was different. _Hallow. _He heard something _click, _and then a grind of _stone against stone _as something moved.

"We're playing this according to our memories- what we saw, heard, and did when we were... well, you guys. My Kenny told me what to say to you, where to go, what to _do..." _Her voice strained a second, and there was more grinding in the dark. The air changed- from stagnant and musty to a sudden chill and dry breeze that hit him in the face. Faintly, he could perceive a dim orange light; like a long neglected LED that was low on battery but still giving off a flickering glow. With that, he could identify that a space had been opened at the end of this hallway. His guide had opened up some kind of secret hatch that led into a narrow shaft with a ladder running through it.

An _escape tunnel._

"... based on what he remembered. _Predestination _is a bitch, as usual."

_Predestination. _

A time loop, secured by a time traveler who would act as an anchor and keep it stable.

"You're here to anchor the timeline, keep it stable while we try to untangle the different possible futures." He posited as the false wall _thudded _into its fully open position. Against the faint light in the escape tunnel, he could actually somewhat see her- a shape in the dark, but identifiable. He'd felt the gloves against his face, but with her outline he realized she was wearing a familiar design of coat; a long one that went to her knees, with a hood up over her head.

_That was the Buttlord costume._

She didn't confirm his statement verbally, but instead turned to him in the dark after the false wall _thudded _into its fully open position. He heard her hand rifling through some interior pocket or otherwise, and a moment later she reached out for him and presented him with two objects. One was clearly a screwdriver- he knew it the second he grasped the handle. The other was... small, and round. A disk of some kind, the size of a quarter.

"What's this?" He asked.

"Pure copper. _Conductive... _kinda like a _wheat penny." _

He blinked. A wheat penny. He'd heard something about a wheat penny before- when Kartwright talked about how she'd broken the machine... _as _she'd been strapped into it.

His heart dropped into the floor. The tiny bit of metal he'd been given suddenly felt incredibly heavy, as he realized what it meant.

"_... no... don't tell me..." _

He felt sick. He'd promised himself he wouldn't let that happen. When he'd first stood up on that platform, looked at the machine in detail, he _swore to himself he wouldn't let Alyssa get strapped into that thing. He'd rather die and go listen to Satan's soap opera of a love life for the rest of eternity than let that happen-_

He was grasped by the shoulders. In the dark, he was aware that she'd bent to be near even with him, although it was too dim to really call it being _eye-to-eye. _Both her hands held him, bringing him back to this moment where time was already ticking away.

"That copper disk is going to save a life today, Kenny. You _need_ to get it to her. If you go down the escape tunnel, unscrew the cover of the first ventilation shaft you see, go straight, straight, straight, left, straight, left, you'll be able to open up a gap in her cell _just _big enough to give that to her. After that..."

She paused.

"... so long as you go with your gut, you'll get it right. Even when it seems wrong."

At that moment, the lights came on.

It was sudden, and blinding. Overhead lights flared to brilliance, and Kenny had to duck his head and look away, using his hood to shield himself from it after spending so long in absolute dark. Lids screwed tightly shut, and his hands flew up to protect his face even further when it felt like the shade of his hood wasn't quite enough. Doing so caused the screwdriver and the coin to fall to the floor, both of them dropped in lieu of protecting his face.

The hands on his shoulders had disappeared. He assumed she, too, had rushed to protect her eyes.

When he was able to look up again, he found himself alone at the end of a narrow hallway, dotted with doors. The secret wall was still open, the ladder beyond being a path that both went _up _as well as _down- _probably something that ran through the whole complex. And his guide?

_Gone. _Disappeared elsewhere, silent as a ghost.

Glancing down, he saw the tools that had been given to him; the screwdriver and the little disk of copper.

He didn't want to pick them up. _Correction, _he _did _wanna pick them up, just long enough to _toss them down the ladder and forget about them. _He wanted to reject what he'd just been told, and find a different way.

_Kenny _wanted to find a different way, _any _different way.

… _Mysterion _picked up the dropped items, and slipped beyond the false wall that had been opened for him.

The script was already written for him... he just had to follow it.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

Short chapter, but I wasn't gonna stretch word-count when the flow felt just right.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	16. Signature Sabotage

**::End Of The Line – Signature Sabotage::**

Falling into line behind Wendy was something Stan accepted without argument when they left the Habitation area. In fact, there was some strange touch of nostalgia, or possibly even _de'ja'vu_ as she took the lead and he followed after, sneaking through the double doors that led back into the laboratory. She took it slow, peering through the windows set into said doors before actually passing through them, and then rushing across the catwalk that rimmed the room to a pile of boxes that would provide cover from one side.

Coming back into this room with control over his own body, Stan couldn't help trying to scope it out. Looking to the left he could see the stairwell he had followed Marie up when she'd come and gotten him from his work site in the bowels of the facility... just in time, too- they were about to send him into the flooded section with a rope tied around his middle to set the next section of pipe; thus why he'd been soaked up to his chest. Looking the other way, he could see that he and Wendy were at the corner of the _massive _room that housed the main lab, and that there was another stairwell at the end of the long way to their right; the one he'd originally come down after arriving in the loading bay by bus.

Somewhat oriented, he finally got his first lingering look away from the paths and into the lab itself. At the light rigging and catwalks that crisscrossed this entire uppermost layer of the main room, and the tiered work space below it.

Staring down, the lights suddenly got brighter. The dim glow of white halogens kicked up to full brightness all at once, and an ambient _hum _gave him a sense of the building coming back to life after many years of lying comatose. Looking down into the pit below them, the middle level came to life as all the computer power along the rim of the room flashed indicator lights and populating their screens with lines of bright green text that, at this distance, was impossible to read but was almost certainly readouts of their boot-up process.

It was something that made him jump, nearly flopping over on his ass, as the people around him didn't even so much as _squint _against the suddenly bright light... though he was willing to bet that they wanted to.

_Poor fuckers. _The whole town, still locked up in their own heads... though, that did make a strange thought cross his mind.

"Hey... Wendy..."

"_Mm?" _She didn't look back at him. Her eyes were scanning the full area of the various catwalks, no doubt weighing their two possible ways down to the working floors of the lab and searching for signs of Marie being around.

"... everyone in town is gonna remember this, aren't they?"

He watched as her shoulders stiffened.

"... we'll worry about that when it's over." She muttered back. "_Look, _the group of people in the pit..."

"The _pit?" _Stan quested, but he still moved a little closer to the edge of the catwalk, a hand grasping onto the cold metal railing and peering downwards where Wendy pointed. She was directing his gaze to the bottom floor of the lab, below the middle tier with all the computers that had stairwells set into it to allow access between the two levels. He supposed, looking at it, the level upon which the machine sat _was_ a sort of pit, set into the middle level... though thinking of it that way made the place seem just that much more sinister.

He'd seen the machine just a little while ago, when Marie brought him up. It had only been for a second before his body had turned to follow the woman, but he'd been able to register the group of people that had been standing around it. That group, at least three dozen strong, hadn't been doing anything before- just _there. _

With the lights on, they had scattered. Two had attended to the machine itself, armed with voltage meters, but the rest had broken away to go up those myriad stairwells and take up positions at the computers around the rim of the middle floor.

"... oh _shit, _that's Ike..."

Wendy's pointing shifted, to a specific member of the scattered group. One of those who _hadn't _gone up the stairs, but instead stayed with the machine. Stan wasn't sure how she recognized him so far away, but squinting at the figure left him with no argument against it being Ike. The hair, height, and clothes all looked right.

"How do you know?"

"That was my group, I recognize all the nerds, and Ike was the only other kid." Wendy muttered back. "We boarded the bus together... though there's more people in that group than rode with me."

"We arrived in pieces." Stan noted. "More people getting added as they came. Dougie and my _dad _joined the plumbing crew right before Marie showed up to take me outta there."

"... if you see Karen, try to grab her and make her laugh." Wendy noted. "Marie might know that's a weak spot for Mysterion, if she realizes he's around. _Oop... _speaking of..."

A door crashed closed on the bottom floor of the lab, and Stan's attention was dragged over before Wendy could even point out the right place to look. Along the wall to their left, smack-dab in the center and directly across from the shaft for the cargo elevator that descended from the loading bay above, there was a set of heavy double doors that had just slammed shut behind a familiar someone in a long tan coat, a black hat, and heeled boots.

Just looking at her made Stan feel a little sick. She'd been there when he arrived on the bus, giving orders of where people needed to go, and the memory of not being able to resist in any way was an ugly one that made him wish he still carried a flask of Jack everywhere.

_Marie._

She strode across the bottom level with purpose, heading directly for the machine in the smack center of the room and passing by a multitude of work tables arranged around it in a sort of amphitheater style... although lacking the effect of continuous downward steps. Those work tables had machines on them, machines that had come to life same as the computer banks. Most of them looked like old-school printers, or fax machines; heavy, boxy things with paper trays. Some of them had spit out sheets of paper with... _something _printed on them when the power came on, and Marie stopped at a few of these to check what they said. Whether she was pleased or not, Stan couldn't guess- she continued on to the machine itself.

For some reason, he instinctively tensed when she got anywhere near Ike. He had to hope Kyle wasn't anywhere close enough to see this... assuming the guy was here at all. He hadn't seen Kyle, Cartman, or Butters, and there wasn't space in his brain to worry about them outside of hoping they were alright and not stuck doing any risky work.

Well... maybe Cartman. That guy could probably take a few volts and come out mildly improved.

She stood for a moment, turning slowly and surveying the group of people who had dispersed to the computers. As she turned to face their way, Wendy grasped him, and they both moved back and away from the edge of the catwalk- they lost sight of her and the bottom floor, but also protected themselves from being seen.

About thirty seconds later, Wendy crept up again, and he followed to peer down once more. Looking to where Marie had been standing, she was no longer there, her heels _clack-clack-clacking _on the metal flooring as she crossed to a stairwell, ascended to the middle tier of the room, and then disappeared past the door to the stairwell that was connected to the loading bay without a second glance back.

"... think she's going up? Or down?"

"Donno." Wendy responded, grabbing him by the hand again. "She's in that stairwell, which means we can use the other one. C'mon."

She didn't have to hold his hand for long; he was even with her a moment after they got moving, and the pair of them arrived together at the door to the stairwell he'd just come up... which, like other parts of the lab, had changed. _The lights were on- _a place that had previously been pitch black was now lit by yellow bulbs that were flush with the walls; circular and set just above the door frames on each landing, with a light in each wall, creating parallel, vertical lines that illuminated the tube of stairs from top to bottom. Looking up, he could see this stairwell _was _at its top level; it didn't go any further up. Looking _down, _he could count five more levels besides the one they were one, making for a total of six.

He knew the level he'd been pulled from, with the identical hallways, and the passage down into the flooded floor of the facility, was at the bottom of this stairwell. Including the loading bay as the first floor, and the flooded level as the final floor, that made for this place being _eight levels deep._

Yeah, that was enough to dam up an underground river. Probably more than enough.

Just inside the stairwell, Stan went into a fresh sneezing fit. It echoed down the metal shaft, sounding all the louder as it was conducted through the space, and panic made him fumble his current wad of tissues before he could actually cover his face, hanging over to sneezing into his elbow until it was over.

"_... ugh... we're not very stealthy right now..." _

"We don't have to be." Wendy assessed while handing him a fresh tissue from her pocket pack. "Not for long, anyway. Fixing things takes time. Breaking them?" She glanced back at him with just the hint of a mischievous smile despite the pale pallor of her face. "You've got the rougher job... you sure you remember where to find what you need?"

"Yeah." He confirmed before blowing his nose again. Was there no end to this shit? Seriously? _How much snot could one nose produce? _"When Marie directed us down, we went to a gathering area, first... had a map with supply closets marked where we could find tools, wherever we ended up while chasing down leaks after the main objective. The one I went into had stuff for welding and metalworking, along with the usual wrenches and crap."

Marie had made him leave behind the tools he'd originally collected before bringing him up, but that didn't matter. He knew where the supplies were, now, and he could use that.

Wendy began moving down the stairs after nodding in response to his confirmation. Going down only one flight of stairs, it was already time for them to separate; this was the level with all of the computers. _Wendy's stop._

"Be careful, okay?" She pleaded with him, grabbing his hand again. Not to lead him anywhere, just to hold it... and squeeze.

"You, too." He returned.

He felt like there was something bigger he needed to say, but he hesitated when it felt wrong on his tongue. It was the sort of thing that, if he tried to say it, he might throw up... and wouldn't that be a blast from the past that _neither _of them needed right now?

"I'm gonna write a _bitching _song after all this shit." He said instead.

She blinked, then smiled.

It felt like she understood what wasn't said.

"... I wanna hear it, soon as you'll let me listen."

"It's a date."

With that, they both let go, and parted ways- she to head out the door and into the main room... and he, to head deeper down.

* * *

_Something was wrong._

Marie had felt an uneasiness in herself for some time, that something was just ever-so-slightly _off _for the last hour or so. Maybe longer. She'd tried to discount it, tried to put it off as _one of her moods- _tension was high, it wouldn't be odd at all for her to get agitated and upset. She'd gone into a swing, talking with Lyssie, and usually she felt _cleaner _after she resolved whatever was bothering in the back of her skull that caused her internal balloon to burst... _but she didn't._

_No, _something was _still _off, even though the power was back.

With full lights, crossing the laboratory floor was almost nostalgic. The repair crew she'd assigned to the top floor had finished pulling dead bulbs and replacing them with new ones from storage, bringing clear and almost shadowless light to the lower floors as many bright lights from many directions made the only true darkness the shadows beneath one's feet; even the work desks no longer protected complete darkness beneath them, and that eased her to a degree. Whatever the feeling in the back of her mind was, it was related to the paranoia that she'd _missed _something, that someone was _scurrying about in the dark, _out of her view, waiting to bring everything down at the most crucial moment.

She felt like she was forgetting someone. Someone was missing. Maybe more than one.

She checked early pages produced by the monitoring equipment that surrounded the machine like the audience at an open-air performance. Each one took readings from different connections, extending out in a radial pattern to ensure that there was no variance in power flow- spikes or dips could mean fatal accidents... either for the test subject, _or _people in the bull pen. Usually there was a team of _dozens_ in the pen, with at least ten dedicated to the machine itself to make adjustments according to readings called out by the desk workers, and another ten on the rim, anytime they ran the machine in a full experiment. Even a _test run _needed at _least_ three teams of five.

She could remember the way people used to scuttle back and forth during an active phase. Numbers being shouted out, connections getting checked while bright, blue-white electricity crackled in the air, and tiny adjustments were made in real time.

She remembered the chaos when it had been Haley strapped into the chair.

She'd not be letting _that _mistake happen again.

Arriving at the machine, she'd taken her time getting a good look around, standing over one of her designated techs who was beginning to check the various connections throughout the machine with a volt meter. Now that main power was humming up from the bowls of the facility, the machine itself _resonated _with that hum to produce a faint harmony somewhere in the low baritone range; something that vibrated through the bones ever-so-faintly that is seemed a phantom, and made the hair on her body stand up for the strangeness of the sensation in her joints.

Everything seemed to be proceeding as planned... so what was _bothering _her?

… _where **is **everyone?_

The question passing her mind finally alerted her. She had a number of people already hard at work, but _it wasn't everyone she remembered. _The whole town wasn't here yet- from her own childhood memories, she was yet to see Eric, Kyle, Kenny, _or _Butters... despite other kids having arrived.

She wouldn't mind so much if Butters escaped all this, if she'd somehow missed him, but the others missing? That was _never _good. It wasn't when she was a child, and it certainly would not be now... more so when there were plenty others _besides them _missing.

Swearing softly to herself, she proceeded away from the machine and directly to the main stairwell back up to the loading dock, trotting up the intervening stairwell between herself and the mid level to cut down the number of doors she'd have to push past. Heading up, the stairwell was now lit... and _empty._

_Wrong. People should still be arriving. Something's gone wrong with the speaker I left to give directives._

She took stairs two at a time, rushing upwards and arriving at the top level mildly short of breath.

The loading bay was in chaos. There had to be at least two hundred people milling about; mostly rednecks from the further reaches of town who would have taken longer to arrive at the mall, as well as business-district people who might not have checked their phones until they noticed other people missing. The bulk of people, moving aimlessly, had blocked an incoming bus and forced it to stop in the tunnel, just short of actually reaching the designated zone where the driver was allowed to let people off... and there was another set of headlights beaming down behind that bus.

Her speaker wasn't making any sound. Someone had shut down her directives for new arrivals. Someone _awake- _the speaker hadn't been accidentally knocked over and broken. No, as she hurried over to look at it, she found it exactly where she left it... just _off. _Tapping the power button, she found it still had battery, and she highly doubted this to be a random malfunction.

_She had a rat in the walls. A **smart **rat. _

Thinking quickly, she barked out orders to the assembled mob.

"Everyone, gather against the wall closest to where you were dropped off! Do _not _smother each other! Spread along the wall to stay out of the way of the buses!"

Each command was projected from her diaphragm, and echoed easily against the metal walls of the room. In short order, randomly wandering individuals who had been slowly bumped around to cover the room's entire floor space began to advance to the far wall that was nearest to the drop zone- the wall with the cargo elevator. There was relief to seeing _that _mess getting resolved, more so when she saw the bus in the tunnel begin to slowly advance as the way in front of it cleared, but she didn't fully trust it. Had her voice reached up into the tunnel? What if someone had wandered further up it than expected?

She couldn't let it be. She needed to go look herself.

Crossing the space at a jog, she entered the tunnel on the right side, out of the way of the incoming buses. She saw the stack was three buses deep; and a trio of buses idling in the tunnel with the power down until recently meant fumes from their exhaust pipes had gathered up to a near _choking _level of thickness... but it was dissipating, now, _thank goodness._

Some yards up the tunnel, she confirmed that no one was still in it, accidentally secreted between buses or otherwise. No, the tunnel was empty of individual persons, and the air was clearing quickly. Someone had introduced a hiccup to her system, but she'd cleared it.

Standing alone in the tunnel, watching the buses proceed down into the loading bay, she considered _whom _might have been smart enough for such an understated act of sabotage. Eric, maybe, but only if keeping quiet had something in it for him. Kyle? Maybe, but he _hated_ going unnoticed. Would he know enough, _fear her _enough not to leave evidence of his ego behind? Stan would have been, but she'd already seen him- she'd pulled him off the work crew on the utility level because he was sick, same as Wendy, who _also _had the smarts not to leave evidence but was firmly off the list of suspects.

She blinked, and chuckled faintly at herself.

"... _kids... they're just kids... _Expand your thinking, there's more people in town who might have figured their way around it... _Haley _might have found her way here, for all we know..."

She hung her head for a moment, holding her brow as she had a rueful chuckle at her own expense. Just because they were _Lyssie's friends _didn't make them the biggest threat. She really _was _losing her mind if she suspected kids before honest-to-goodness adults.

Looking down, she saw something. She wouldn't have seen it if she hadn't come up here, it was such a small thing... but it made her eyes go wide when she did. Bending, she reached down, her hand leaving her head to instead pick up the object with the sort of caution one reserved for things that might _bite _or explode.

On the ground, in the tunnel, she found a little plastic figurine. A green question mark, with purple detailing, held together with a little metal spring.

_Mysterion._

She blinked. Her brow came down. It all made sense.

_Kenny._

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooBOY

Turns out things can fall out of your pocket when you bail out of the back of a moving bus

Also, a general reminder to my readership that I have stated in my public profile that _I do not want ideas from my readers. I already know where this story is going. If you send me unsolicited plot ideas or profiles of characters you want me to add, particularly after a request for you to stop has been issued, **I will block you. **_I am thankful for your enthusiasm, but I am here to write _my_ story, not _yours._

Fic writers are not content robots, please and thanks.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	17. Special Delivery

**::End Of The Line – Special Delivery::**

Crawling in vents was always so much _easier _in video games, Mysterion had learned. Most air vents were not even _half as big _as their intakes, and even when they _were _big enough to shimmy himself into? They often had odd screws or sharp edges left over from construction that no one cared about because the only thing that was ever supposed to pass through them was _air. _Add on the extra fun of dealing with fans, heating elements, or intersections with full-on air handling junctions, and the whole idea that _ventilation shafts were viable routes through entire buildings _was a big crock of bullshit.

At best, they were good for what he was doing now- shimmying a short distance through the interior of a ceiling, and cursing every time what was left of his cape caught on an exposed screw head.

Following the directions he'd been given, he had followed exactly the path _Future Lyssie _had given him- and he could firmly call her that in his head. He'd seen her only as a silhouette, he could not guess what this night was going to do to her, but _she remembered it, _and she mentioned following along with what _he _remembered of this, after the fact. That suggested that they were both going to make it out of this alive, and go on to a future where... what? They were _still _doing the hero thing?

An interesting thought, but there was hardly space to fuss over it as he worked is way through dark shafts that were barely wide enough for his body, no doubt _loudly _thumping along for anyone in adjacent spaces to hear. Normally, he would have been slower and more stealthy about it, but he'd been told to listen to his gut... and there was nothing in him but _urgency _since the lights came back on.

The power was back. There would be no more delays.

Taking the last turn in the series of instructions he'd been given, Mysterion could see nothing. He'd been _feeling _his way along, fingertips his only assurance that he'd made all the correct turns and not missed any passageways. In this same manner, he didn't know exactly what he would need to do at this point. He'd been told that he'd be able to _open a gap, _but how? He still had the screwdriver he'd used to open this path into the vents in the first place, but it was hard to _use _that when he was in the absolute pitch black of a claustrophobic space. Reaching forward to continue his shimmying, he fumbled in the dark to try and figure out what it was he'd be working with.

Fingertips bumped against some kind of housing. At first he withdrew his hand, scared of having hit a fan that was just spinning to quietly to hear over the hum of power in the facility, but replaced it a bit more carefully and found some kind of _housing _was screwed into this part of the vent. Feeling ahead, he found it took up about half the vertical space available, which meant there was no way he was moving past it... and there was some kind of feed running either _to _or _from _it...

He felt the edges of the housing. The corners didn't have screws, but _bolts, _nothing his tool would be useful against... but as he shuffled his body closer to the housing? A tiny sliver of _light _appeared at the edge of the housing as the ventilation shaft bent beneath his weight.

A sliver that he could slip the tip of the screwdriver into, and wedge it to open a little wider.

A sliver, too thin to see through, became a gap about an inch wide. Even with his full weight leaned on the handle of the screwdriver, that was all the further he could widen it before the _screwdriver itself _began to bend.

_Cheap piece of shit..._

"... _Kenny?"_

A voice from below, one he was quite familiar with... though with a tone he never wanted to hear again. It was Alyssa, but she was _shaken._

_Scared._

He wiggled the screwdriver, trying to open the gap a little more while sliding his face right up to the opening, peering down into the room below. It was, as he was told, a cell. One of the _padded _verity, with a mattress on the floor and no sharp edges accessible to the person within. He didn't see anything that would lend itself to an escape attempt from the inside, either; he could guess form the direction of the light that the housing he was prying beneath was both the vent and the illumination for the room, and it was above and out of reach for Alyssa. Even if she _could _get it open from her side, it was unlikely that she'd be able to climb out without something to stand on.

Though... why was she still _here?_

"Yeah, it's me." He answered, able to see her. She was directly below the light figure, staring up at him. Her eyes... they were reddened, and wet. Had she been crying? That wasn't the only part of her that was red, either. Bare shoulders, shown off by her sleeveless shirt that she wore under the Buttlord coat, were welted like she'd been bashing into the walls... like she'd been trying to _brute force _her way out and hitting hard enough to hurt herself, despite all the padding. "... Marie saw through the act?"

"_You've talked to Wendy!" _She gaped, looking away from him for a moment before her head jerked up again, causing the chaotic red curls atop her head to bounce and scatter in odd directions with the somewhat frantic motion. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine, so is Stan- they're both out in the lab, trying to fuck with the machine." He spoke softly and quickly. "What happened to you? Wendy said you were playing along, how... _how come you haven't escaped?" _

She went quiet. He could see tension in her face as her jaw clenched, and her shoulders flexed upwards for a moment before she tried to let it go. "... Marie knew how to keep me here." Was all she said through gritted teeth. "Any bright ideas?"

_Not really._

"Nothing solid, yet... just a back-up plan."

He didn't like it. Doing this made his skin crawl, knowing where it was leading... but if this was a time loop?

It didn't matter how ugly it was. Fucking it up could cause the whole thing to collapse. Morgan had already warned them how unstable this timeline was; a collapsed loop might unravel their entire _universe. _Existance as they knew it, _erased _because he couldn't bring himself to accept an ugly truism about the future that had settled into place enough to come back and _help them. _Ignore _himself _ceasing to be, what would happen to Alyssa? Would she fade away, or would she, as a time traveler, be stuck in some kind of _quantum limbo?_

_Lesser of two evils._

He slid the copper coin through the gap, and watched as it fell into Alyssa's hands. She looked at it, blinked, and looked back up at him.

"... where did you get this?"

"From _you." _He answered simply. "... about twenty years from now, I'm guessing. It was dark."

"_Candy-coated cockrings, are you **fucking** serious? I'm down here with a **spike ball **up my ass and there's **a future version of me **completing a goddamn surfer-scented walrus dick of a time loop?!"_

"... getting into alliteration, huh?"

He couldn't really blame her. If that marker he'd been given by Clean Eric was anything to go by, there was a future of _Mysterion _running around, too, who hadn't arrived early enough to stop what was happening... which meant something was _going _to happen that was important to their future. The amount of restraint required, to know what that was, and know exactly how ugly it was going to get, and _to still let it happen _was...

He supposed that was the sort of maturity that came with age, and with doing this shit for a decade or so.

"I hate temporal responsibility." She grumbled. "... what now? I'm just supposed to... _sit here? _I... I don't think I can do that."

"You- the other you- she told me to go with my gut. That so long as I got that coin to you, it was gonna save your life, and the rest we'd just have to... _react _to."

"_Great, _listen to the powers that be, _like they've done any shitlicking favors for me." _

"... Lyssie..."

He didn't know what to say. Instinct was to try and find another way to get to her; to help her out of that cell and _do _something, but he'd already been told that was a _futile _action. Was he supposed to try anyway? He couldn't stand this- to know she was locked up, scared, _alone-_

Somewhere else in the complex, there was a squealing sound. A long _screech _of... feedback?

Mysterion feared the worst; that a priming noise was about to sound through the place via some kind of PA, and he fumbled his hand downwards along his person to try and get to the earplugs he'd brought with him that he'd taken out back when he'd first ducked into Habitation. Due to the confines of the space, however, he couldn't and succeeded only in smashing his elbow against the metal side of the ventilation shaft.

Turned out, he was only half-right. The sound was of a PA system... it just wasn't sounding off a priming noise. Instead, someone spoke on speakers that sounded like they were _everywhere _throughout the facility, echoing from multiple locations and reaching his current place in the vents from all sides at various volumes.

"_Kenny McCormick, please report to the main laboratory. Kenny McCormick, to the main laboratory, please." _

Marie's voice, calling him- not ordering him, but _requesting _him.

_Why? __What the fuck was she playing at? _

His reflex was to refuse; why in _hell _would he come out of the walls and show himself? … and why wouldn't she _order _it if she knew he was there?

"_You have ten minutes before I order your entire family to stop breathing." _

_What?!_

His heart lurched into his throat, and his head bumped hard against the top of the vent as a _jolt _ran through his body. She _wouldn't! … would she? _

_Would she?_

_Would he risk Karen on that theory? _

"_Oh god..." _

Of all the curses Alyssa could have uttered, that gasp brought his attention back down.

She almost never swore to god. She didn't _believe _in capital-G 'God,' and usually had more colorful things to include in her expletives. To hear her mutter something so simple was something that hit harder than any vulgarity she could spew forth instead, and he found her with both hands covering her mouth, shaking, while looking back up at him.

"She wouldn't." He said aloud; in part to reassure himself, but also because, as of yet, it didn't fit with Marie's MO. Everything she'd done, she'd done without actually causing any harm. She'd _pulled _two sick people from her work force, suggesting that she still had some empathy in her actions. The commands she'd given had not done any mental damage to those he'd seen freed, aside from the initial distress. Certainly, after taking so many pains _not _to do harm, Marie wouldn't casually suffocate an entire family to death?

_Of course not._

"She would." Alyssa whimpered from below him. "She... she came by here, spoke to me; she's too focused in. It's just like Amelia- she didn't do any harm, she didn't _want _to do any harm, not until she got triggered by someone _stealing _from her. Marie's already decided what she's going to do, she's already decided what the _only _way forward is. She _thinks_ she's doing the right thing... that means she'll make ugly choices to get it done."

Not what he wanted to hear... but the truth rarely was.

"... try to find a way out." He told her, grasping the screwdriver again. The way he'd wedged it in had the metal tang of the tool shimmied all the way to one side of the seam in the vent, forcing as much of an opening as possible in the middle where the structure wasn't secured by bolt or otherwise. Turning the handle in towards that middle section, he shoved as hard as he could to make the metal sheeting of the vent bend just a _little _further.

"I... _I understand." _

There was a metallic _pop _as the tool was forced through, dropping into the room below and the opening it had opened snapping shut with little more than a dent to show for it. Not like he cared- he wanted to flood this whole place once everyone was out, but that wasn't his priority right now.

No, he needed to shimmy his way back out of the vents and make his way to the main lab... _quickly._

He had nine minutes left.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

I've got no filler here my friends. We're almost to the end of this, and I cannot articulate just how psyched I am.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	18. Open Air Confession

**::End Of The Line – Open Air Confession::**

"_Kenny McCormick, please report to the main laboratory. Kenny McCormick, to the main laboratory, please." _

The PA message echoed throughout the entire complex, long before Stan made it back up to the main floor with the machine... although he'd decided to take a different path to get back up.

Descending down to the floor he'd been on before, he remembered far more than just where the supply closets were on the map he'd seen. No, he remembered seeing a notation for _utility access tunnels, _and ladders marked for such on said map.

Kenny had suggested he sabotage the machine itself, from the main floor of the lab, but what if he could just fuck with it from below? The utility tunnels ran right beneath the machine, as did the cables that powered it. He could do some damage without _ever _poking his head up where he might be seen... and _sneeze his heart out _without fear of getting discovered.

Seriously, if he kept sneezing this hard he was pretty sure he was gonna fucking spit his heart out into his hand.

He'd been half-way up a ladder into the access tunnels when the announcement came through; armed with a blow torch, a power drill with the biggest bit he could find, and a ten-pound sledge. He was pretty sure the drill belonged to someone else who'd been working down on the utility level before today- it looked newer, and the battery had been fully charged and ready to go. _Whatever _had been his thought upon finding it; he wasn't gonna question good luck. Either way, the sound of Marie's voice coming through _spooked _him, and caused him to stop cold while clinging tight to the ladder.

A number of thoughts shot through his mind, but most dominantly was _how did she know __**Kenny **__was here? _

She didn't call Mysterion to the main lab. She called _Kenny, _and she didn't use one of her 'fucking listen to me' noises to do it. She just... _asked._

Well, asked with a threat attached. One Stan _knew _Kenny would listen to- guy would go to the end of the fucking earth for Karen, and everyone knew it.

_Stay focused _is what Stan told himself, hefting himself the rest of the way up the ladder. The utility tunnels were lit in the same manner as the stairwells; circular lights set into the ceiling and walls, creating a sort of _running lights _effect. Once he arrived, he found he wasn't alone; a great number of people were down in these tunnels, hard at work now that the power was back up and running. Electrical panels were open, and the few words any of them were allowed to say to each other whilst under Marie's clothes were being uttered- directing others on where to go and how to fix things.

It was the only speech allowed among the drones; speech needed to communicate their objectives and work together. Anything else, and they could not speak.

It had scared him when he'd still be under control. The near-total silence still unnerved him, now, but there was a pang of pity to go with the unsettling discomfort. No one working down here _wanted _to be doing this.

He knew they all had to be fighting, despite the silence.

_Marie is gonna fucking die the second these people get their free will back. No riot like a South Park riot. She should probably just kill herself; it would be less painful._

The consideration to try and make these people laugh, to shout out something that would trigger some local humor, was something Stan dismissed as he hurried through, already able to sight his general objective ahead of him. Freeing any of these people had a possibility to help them, but outside of Kenny getting called out? They were still in stealth mode. If someone lost their shit, and it tipped to Marie that they were staging the equivalent of a prison break, she'd slam down _hard _and take control again... and with the PA system? It was pretty unlikely that she'd miss anyone.

Even knowing how to get himself free, he wasn't sure he _could _get himself to laugh if he got hit again. There'd been something about the nature of being trapped that mad it hard to be anything but _overwhelmingly angry. _

Hadn't Wendy said something about that? That the priming noises worked because they were painful and annoying, and that _anger _was what Dee took control of? Wendy had just been theorizing, but if she were _right, _it would fit right in with _humor _being a _release. _It was hard to be violently angry and laugh at something at the same time, unless one was in the midst of absolutely losing their shit. Laughter usually _released _the energy involved with being angry or freaked out.

He'd have to tell her that thought later. Maybe he'd impress her.

_Later. _Right now, he was passing by the massive power cable that was connected to the machine on the floor above. One of four he'd observed before; carrying the dizzying amount of juice the thing needed directly from the power plant in the lowest level... one that had been, until recently, flooded. There was another one of the cables, in its black mesh casing, in front of him. Approaching the central intersection of the utility tunnels, he could look left and right into the intersecting pathway and see the other two cables... which meant he was directly below the machine.

Looking up, there was a hatch in the ceiling, bigger than a manhole cover was wide and square. He tried to pull it down by the handle, but it was _locked._

_Well, well, well... perfect job for Toolshed... though **he **would have remembered the safety glasses._

Didn't matter. Between what he brought with him, he'd get this thing open- if it was important enough to lock, it was important enough to _destroy._

* * *

Wendy didn't get much of a chance to fuck with the computers before the announcement... one which suggested that Marie would be on her way down from wherever she made said announcement to meet Kenny in the lab. She was torn for a moment, having only recently arrived at a terminal and trying to force her way past the password protection. If she had managed to go with her group, she _might _have been given that information, but she hadn't.

If Marie came down, Wendy would need to hide. Otherwise her cover would be blown... and who knew what the woman would be willing to do to her at this point, if she was willing to escalate _that far _on Kenny? What could she do in the time between here and there? She wasn't going to just _duck away _without committing to any action.

She glanced around. There was plenty of movement in the lab, but none she identified as being more purposeful than the drones. She also didn't hear Marie's signature heels clacking against any nearby floors. For the new few moments, it seemed, she was safe to move.

"_Damnit, Dee, you're a bad influence...!" _

The muttered curse followed hurried steps down one of the stairwells from the upper catwalk of the middle floor to the pit of the main floor. Wendy rushed across open space, exposed, to the machine itself in a matter of sections whilst dodging between the wooden desks arranged around it. Upon arrival beside the machine, she ducked low and pressed her back to the shiny metal siding of its round platform, once again looking up and checking various lines of sight for a threat.

Nothing. Okay. _Next step._

Crouched down, she followed around the edge of the machine. She wasn't looking for anything on the metal behemoth itself... rather, she was looking for one of the techs assigned to it.

Ike.

The kid was hard at work. He had a panel open on the side of the monster, one of its tiered steps up, using a volt meter to check power flow of connections within the panel. He also had a little notebook with him, and a pen, where it appeared he was writing down those readings once in a while- she had to guess when something was _off spec. _

He didn't look up at her when she approached, of course. He _couldn't. _He was trapped, just like everyone else.

"Ike... hey Ike..."

No recognition. Not even a twitch. He continued with his work, noting down another reading from his meter.

"Do you like fish sticks?"

* * *

Communications was near the B stairwell- the stairwell that didn't reach the loading dock, and next to Habitation. Marie was happy to see the PA system was actually still working after all this time; she was worried the various speakers would be too damaged by the _damp _and _time _to even function.

She was happier to take the stairs down to the lab and find her announcement had brought her a present. Arriving at the mid-tier of the lab, looking down to the main work level, she could see the very boy she requested had arrived just before her... _exiting the double doors that led into Containment. _

"_Now how did you get in there...?" _

A faint muttering, but hardly consequential. Without the special key she was currently in possession of, there was near no way he could have unlocked the door on Lyssie's cell. Rather than a traditional key, made up of a flat and toothy shape that could be mimicked with a properly bent bit of metal, it was a round sort of key that resisted traditional lock picking. There was also an electrical component; now that the power was back on, anyone who _did _manage to open a door without using the right key would trigger an alarm.

She was talking to Lyssie when the power came back; there was no way a door could have been unlocked before then or right under her nose. She remained confident that her younger self had gone nowhere... she likely interrupted an attempt being made at getting her free.

Inwardly reassured, she descended the stairs to the lab floor, eyeing the subject of her recent announcement.

"Kenny McCormick... how nice of you to be _prompt." _

The blond boy turned around, without the accompaniments that she remembered from childhood that would have made him _Mysterion- _the hood and cape where nowhere to be seen, nor was the sweatshirt with the signature _M _stitched to the front... but the _pants _were the right shade for the costume. Rather than wearing his underwear over the top of his pants, as he had when they'd been a bit smaller, he had a set of ripped up jean shorts held on with a rough leather belt... both of which she suspected were third or even forth-hand. Without the usual shirt, he was in a ratty and threadbare sleeveless that was off-white with age and use.

She'd never known Mysterion's true identity as a child; he'd been wary of her, once he learned that the people in her home were not in fact her parents but _government handlers. _It wasn't until later, when Eric had let it slip during some long-forgotten conversation. It was something she figured would _never _matter; it wasn't like some kid playing at being _Batman _would ever be something she needed to care about.

_Funny _how these things worked out, where he turned out to be the missing piece. The key part of Alyssa's group of friends that she underestimated, at _every _turn.

"Not like you gave me a whole lot of a choice." He responded, turning away from the main space of the lab to face her, fingers clenched into fists. He was _tense, _ready to fight- she knew the look in his eye extremely well. _He was sizing her up, considering his options._

"More choice than I've given most everyone else." She noted blandly. "I'd like to keep things _civil, _if at all possible."

He _shuddered _at the word. Nothing about him wanted to be civil. She could see it in his stance. _He wanted to destroy her._

She arrived at the bottom of the stairs, heels clicking on the metal floor of the main lab.

"_Threatening _my entire family isn't exactly what I'd call _civil, _lady."

"I had to bring you to the negotiating table." She shrugged. It wasn't like she would have made the command _absolute; _no, just a little something to put on a show if he decided to be difficult; with the clawing and the gaping and the _panic- _right up until the commanded individuals lost consciousness.

The non-peril clause was still a major component of the active priming noise. She _couldn't _command anyone to kill themselves, or take an action that would cause deadly peril. It was a built-in release, that if deadly danger occurred, all commands were moot... but _he _didn't know that.

"_**You don't have anything I want." **_

Ah, _there _was the Mysterion in him- that _voice, _dropping an octave and going rough. He was _angry. _

"Don't I?" She asked him, eyebrows raising up. "... last I heard, your _mortality _was a thing of value."

Kenny blinked. Blue eyes went wide, and his head drew back. She watched as he shook a little, like a dog with water in the ears, before staring at her again.

"... _what the fuck do you know about that?"_

A _smile. _Faint, but it still spread across her face. She didn't step up to him- she wasn't _dumb enough _to enter swinging range. If any hostile move was made, she fully intended to be far enough away to _tranq _him the same way she did Alyssa.

"Enough to know it was something you never got in my timeline, nor Haley's. Sadly I don't know the _nature _of your ability, but it is an _ability, _is it not? A _power?" _She made a faint gesture towards the machine. "... the very sort of thing that I _built _that machine to get rid of?"

She watched him as he looked, slowly, peering over his shoulder. She let him linger.

"Why?"

"I need a test run." She responded simply. "The machine is... _deadly _more oft than not, practically the flip of a a coin. Getting it up to speed to run calibration will help, but... well, without a body in the chair..."

She shrugged as he looked back to her.

"... why? _Why ask me? _Why not just... _order me?" _

"Psychological damage is a concern. There was a trend of it being more likely when commands were used to force the complacency of a test subject- Believe it or not, Kenny, I am _rather intensely _preoccupied with the future... I didn't want to do this. Not this way. My intent was set things up quietly, slowly, and cause as little fuss as possible. All of this? It's an _incident, _and the last thing I wanted. _People are going to notice an entire town going off the rails for a day. _There will be news. There will be memories. There will be anger, and recriminations... but it _had _to be done."

"Or what? _What are you doing, and why are you doing this if you don't want to do it?" _

She blinked, staring at him. Would he understand?

… Kenny always was a good listener.

"... Alyssa is never going to know peace as long as she has powers, Kenny. You know that. Better than anyone else in this town, _you know that. _As long as she has the ability to influence people, and the ability to _rip time and space as she pleases, _there are going to be people who want to _own _that. _Control _that. I grew up on a tight government leash, and she would have, too, if not for my meddling. If I had gotten to her when she was a baby, _none of this would have had to happen. _I could have cut the cord then, and this would have been _long _over. What I'm trying to do is end this by getting rid of the real root of the problem; our abilities. _I want to give her a normal childhood. _No more adventures, no more crisis, just... life. _Normal life. _The way a kid is supposed to live it."

He was quiet. _Thinking. _He was looking back at the machine again, away from her.

"You can't tell me she doesn't want that. I know she does. _I wished for it every day of my life when I was her age. _Just like you would rather be rid of your immortality. You know what it's like to be special, _and it's not fun. _It's _hard, _it's _scary, _and _there is no rest." _

"... I'm not going to forgive you."

She blinked. "... excuse me?"

"We both know I didn't have a _choice_ the moment you called me down." He responded, looking at her again. His face had hardened. He wasn't surprised or shocked anymore- no, he appeared to know exactly what was going on; everything had clicked into place for him. "You're going to use me for your test run, no matter what I say. If I try to run, you have a hundred hands to catch me before I make it to a door... which means you want someone to forgive you for what you're about to do. _To tell you it's okay... _and I'm not going to, Marie. _You're not my friend. Alyssa is, _and you're about to _hurt her. _Maybe even kill her. _I will never forgive you, and she won't either." _

Another blink. Then another.

Faintly, she let out a laugh. She reached a hand into her coat, drawing out the same firearm she'd used before on Alyssa.

"... you're right." She confessed. "So let's stop playing games. _Start walking... _it's time to get you strapped in."

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

Home stretch my friends, and I think I'm officially out of random shit to say XD

_ONWARDS!_

**_-Buttlord_**


	19. Reversal

**::End Of The Line – Reversal::**

_Go with your gut, she said._

Going with his gut had been the decision to drop the hood, mask and shirt- every clear signifier of _Mysterion, _expecting that he'd be out in the open after being called by his real name. Going with his gut had been the decision to bait and listen to Marie, despite knowing he had absolutely no leverage or choice one he'd stepped out into the open. Hell, even before then- so long as she had his family? He would have stood up on top of the machine and done a little jig if she demanded it, no priming noise necessary.

Not just Karen. His mom, dad, and even Kevin- he cared too much about them to gamble on Marie pulling a bluff.

Still, he knew a little more now.

He knew who Marie was protecting so desperately.

_Herself._

Approaching the machine, he still felt like he was in the right place. It wasn't that he was unafraid- _fuck no, _he was terrified... but he could be scared out of his fucking mind and still feel certain that this was exactly where he needed to be.

If Marie had someone to _do _a test run on, it bought his saboteurs time. He didn't see either of them, but he was _certain- _Wendy and Stan were _somewhere, _and every extra second he gave them was a second where, despite this being a _loop, _he very desperately hoped for the future to change.

He wanted that coin he'd given to Alyssa to be a useless gesture. He didn't care if this monster fried him- _permanently, _even. Maybe he was taking her place, right now.

Maybe today was the day he died, and he didn't come back.

"Hold up."

He stopped, just short of taking the first step up to the platform. Marie was behind him, with a weapon trained on him. It looked too light to be a regular gun, and she obviously knew better than to _kill _him. It was probably a tranq, or something of the sort; something that would put him down if he made a run for it. Either way, he'd kept his hands up where she could see them; he had already accepted his face.

No need to make a fuss.

"No metals on the platform." She informed him. "Boots and belt, off. The shorts, too, if they have a metal button."

_Not the context in which I ever expected Lyssie to ask me to strip._

Normally, he would have had himself a giggle at that... but something was _off _about Marie. He'd sensed it before. She was _different _than his Alyssa. Not so much in _temper, _he was certain that Marie would fly off the handle if provoked enough... but he suspected she was in a state of mind where it would take a lot _less _to provoke her than Lyssie. Maybe almost nothing at all.

The belt was dropped, the boots kicked away, and the shorts pulled off once he identified that _yes, _the button was metal. His sweat pants were of the third-hand sort, and too big for him; they sagged as he finished removing all the prohibited items.

"You may continue up. Sit in the chair, Kenny."

Even if she wasn't commanding him the same way she did the drones, she still spoke like she was. Enunciated, and carefully directed with other ears around who might catch a stray word if it wasn't clearly defined as _for him. _

He proceeded, up the textured steps that led from the bottom of the massive round platform to the top of the machine; an elevation that was even with the second floor of the lab; the rim with all the computer banks on it.

He'd stood here once before. He'd looked at the chair, and the plinth with the ball on top of it. It was more sinister to him, now that he saw it in full light. The blemishes on the ball, the shadows of hand-prints from dozens of victims, were more starkly visible against the shiny surface when full white light was coming down from above rather than the dim and flickering illumination he'd seen it in last. The parts that were no longer so reflective, that had grown matte with the faint memories of hands bound to the device, each layered over the one that came before.

He'd read too many files in a forgotten records room on the people some of these prints belonged to, and _most _of them were dead.

Sitting down, he felt like their ghosts were with him. Chill touches communicated through cold metal.

His heart beat a little faster against his ribs.

Somewhere below him, he heard something. Scuttling motion, like someone trying to sneak around below the edge of the machine's platform. It got his attention as Marie came up behind him, glancing down.

Briefly, he spied the top of a head, and straight, black hair.

_Wendy. **Fuck me** she's right there._

Marie was going to be at the top of the platform in a moment; from there, all she'd have to do is _look down _and she'd see the person who didn't belong.

_What was Wendy doing there? That's not anywhere near the computers._

Hardly the issue, _she was, _and if he didn't _do _something, she was going to be _seen._

He rocketed back up to his feet, out of the chair.

* * *

"Actually, you know what? _No, _no, I'm not doing this- not until you tell me exactly what's going to happen."

Wendy had been holding her breath. Ike was crouched down with her; getting him _free _had been simple. He, like Stan, barely needed the _set-up _before he was chuckling his way back to free will and having control over himself... and while he'd had some _choice words, _he'd also gone quiet the moment Marie had _clacked _her way back into the main room.

She hadn't been able to hear the conversation she had with Kenny, but somehow it had ended up with him ascending to the top of the machine. Marie _had _to be directly behind him, and by the sound of things? About to move to the top.

Wendy swallowed, hard. There was nowhere for her and Ike to go; any way they went, they would be entirely exposed if Marie so much as _glanced _that direction, and from the top of the platform? She could look _any _direction.

That was when Kenny started... well, not quite shouting, but he wasn't being _quiet _about his demand to know what was going to happen to him. He'd gotten up, so quickly and violently that Wendy had heard his feet stamp on the top of the platform despite his heavy boots having gotten left behind.

Marie sighed. "That's hardly going to do you any good, Kenny."

"I've been co-operative, Marie, _tell me what's going to happen to me. _If this thing _makes me mortal _and then _takes the one life I got, _I deserve to know how it's gonna go down."

_What? _

Wendy experienced a shock. What had Kenny just said?

She was still uncertain how much she believed about the whole _immortality _thing Kenny claimed was part of his skill set, but Dee most certainly did... and if Kenny was risking _death, _Dee would not be happy about it. Hell, _she wasn't happy about it. _Part of her wanted to dive out at that very second-

"_Bitch, he's putting on a show." _

Ike's voice; a low hiss next to her as he grabbed the sleeve of her coat and tugged on her. She came back to earth with a jolt, and realized he was right; Kenny must have seen them... and decided to make himself a _distraction._

_Kenny you beautiful bastard... we'll get you out of this alive. You'll see._

"You'll be strapped in, a massive amount of electrical current will be run through the mechanism, and you will either come out the other side a changed person... or a _crispy corpse." _Marie informed him bluntly as Wendy and Ike moved around the base of the machine, staying low and moving as quietly as possible. Glances were stolen upwards, and Wendy had to swallow back the hesitation as Marie's head came into view just past the angle that would be considered _profile. _

If the woman even so much as glanced to the side, they would be caught.

Wendy half-pushed Ike out further, and Ike yanked her along. In a few steps, they were directly behind Marie's back, and heading for the first available bit of cover; one of the old work desks arranged around the machine. The very first one in the consecutive circles that they were arranged in, on the left side of the aisle cleared between the doors labeled 'CONTAINMENT' and the machine in the middle of the room.

"That's it? No _theory _to wax on about?" Kenny remained belligerent as they ducked below the old wooden desk they'd selected.

"Hours of it, actually." Marie countered. "And should you survive this, you're welcome to go through _all _my old notes stored away on the utility level... but for now, I really must insist you _sit down- _I have other things to attend to before we get underway, and I'm not taking my eyes off you until you're _strapped in _and _under guard." _

"... good plan." Kenny conceded.

_Kenny you crazy son of a bitch._

Wendy and Ike had tucked themselves into the tight space beneath the desk, contained entirely and still exposed to a degree. The nature of the lighting rigs above them meant the shadows were minimal. If Marie walked back up the way she'd come and looked back? _They were f-u-c-k-e-d._

First opportunity, the were going to need to make a run for a better hiding place... or take a stand.

Glancing to Ike, she knew they were on the same page. A nod was exchanged.

For now, they held their breath... and waited.

* * *

Dee couldn't sit still.

Hearing Kenny's voice had made her so excited she'd almost not known what to do with herself... which had made it all the more crushing when Marie threatened him directly through the PA. Despite knowing just how _important _his family was to him, there was a reflex to _beg him not to leave her alone here _that had to be quashed down and silenced.

Instead, she'd swallowed back the fear of being alone and trapped, and told him she understood.

That said, he'd left her a pair of gifts. One, the little bit of copper, was one she'd rather _forget _but tucked beneath the strap of her bra anyway, lacking a pocket for safe-keeping without her overcoat. The other was a screwdriver... one that was _mildly bent _but still a source of possible hope.

She'd already attempted _brute force _as a strategy for escape, and it hadn't given her anything besides sore shoulders. With the screwdriver, she could at least start destroying parts of her prison and seeing if there was anything useful inside the walls. The head of the tool wasn't exactly _sharp, _but it was _just pointy enough _that she could start ripping open the padding that prevented her from doing any real harm to herself, yanking it out whilst on the hunt for _anything _she could use.

After several minutes of effort, and more than a little pain in her continued insistence of being _upright and moving _despite the torture device stuck up her butt, she had very little to show for it; simply a room filled with ripped fabric and a great deal of fluff. Whomever had designed this place had done pretty well on the prison cells; no piping ran through the walls. Gas, water, electrical- _none of the above _were available to break and use.

Usually _burning things _was her go-to... though, even if she found something that could spark a fire, what would she do with it? She couldn't fart- not without ripping her asshole to an infinite degree and probably _bleeding out _from the internal damage.

_Great. **Saw: Buttlord Edition.**_

Next up was the door, but the hinges weren't on her side. Even if the screwdriver were the correct size, she couldn't just _remove it from the frame... _and both the frame and the door itself were made of metal beneath the padding. No weakness to exploit there, no wood that the water might have rotted away into something smash-able.

… _that said, _the metal bit set into the window, the one with the holes, that Marie had been speaking to her through? _That _had a screw in the middle.

The head was on her side. It fit the screwdriver.

After several minutes of panic and pacing, _excitement _snapped through her system. The bent screwdriver was annoying, but it still did its job, the screw eventually falling out and the fixture it held together coming apart in two pieces; one on either side of the door.

There was now a hole in the window; not big enough for her entire _person, _but big enough to force an arm through... and, better yet?

The window now had a _giant _hand-hold in the middle of it.

With a place to apply leverage, her attention turned towards the edges of the window. There was framing protecting it, but with the screwdriver she was able to _pry _it off. Underneath was some kind of adhesive that had sealed the window into the door frame, and while that adhesive might have been _secure _when this place had first been established? It was _soft _and _gummy _after years of high humidity and no maintenance. Once again, she dug her tool in, dragging and peeling and digging into the seam between the window and the door.

In time, the window began to wiggle in its mounted spot. The wire reinforcement to make it resistant to breaking or bashing was irrelevant.

She was going to yank the whole fucking thing out.

_Fuck you, brute force **is** the answer. _

She didn't know how long she worked on the window. Twenty minutes? An hour? It didn't matter. Splitting her focus to worry about anything else would only slow her down, and she sure as _fuck _wasn't just gonna sit on her ass like some damsel and wait for shit to happen to her.

_Fuck that, fuck this, and fuck everything else- I am **getting the fuck out of here.**_

The tip of the screwdriver was sticky with all the tacky crap she'd scraped out from the seams, and she dropped it on the floor as she went back for some of the padding she'd ripped off of the walls. Some foam and fabric could be wrapped together to protect her hands, and after compressing two chunks into passable guards, it was time to make an attempt.

The window was above her head level. Putting both hands into the hole that she'd made, her hands turned outwards and nearly back-to-back to one another, she pitched her body backwards and began to _pull._

The window shifted, but didn't fully give right away. She put her foot up on the door, gritting her teeth as she felt the _thing _in her ass shift. She wasn't bleeding, was she? _No, no, don't get distracted, keep pulling. Keep fucking pulling. _

What was left of the adhesive made the strangest _peeling _noise, a slow release of something that had been held in place for a long time, resisting the forces that conspired to separate them.

She shifted her foot up, planted her heel, and brought up the other foot. She was suspended, off of the ground, both hands anchored on the window, and her entire body committed to _pulling this thing the fuck out of its housing._

_It gave. _

Without an anchor, Dee's body responded to gravity and fell onto the padded floor. The shock was like a kick in the balls... or, maybe a kick in the ass was more accurate, because pain _shot _up her body and made her cry out to the ceiling between tightly gritted teeth.

The window had been flung somewhere behind her with the force of removal. She didn't care. Slowly, gingerly, she bent her body around the radiating pain to look up at her work.

With the window gone, there was now a space that was _more _than big enough for her body.

_I'm coming, Kenny._

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

:D

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	20. Time Pressure

**::End Of The Line – Time Pressure::**

_Okay, we're outta sight... what now?_

Getting beneath the wooden desk, Wendy had no idea what her plan was. She'd gotten Ike in hopes that he'd have the passwords she needed to get into the computer terminals, but she hadn't gotten so much as the chance to _ask him _before Marie showed up. _Thankfully _he was able to read a room and understood exactly what kind of shit they were in- the kind that didn't lend itself well to snappy comments or sassy delays.

She could still hear Marie, somewhere in the space behind them, no doubt going through the process of _strapping Kenny into that mechanical nightmare. _Possibly searching him to make sure he hadn't tried to sneak any metallic objects up onto the platform. The woman was, for the moment, still distracted... but _where would they go? _The machine was near _smack-center _of the room, far from the walls and any doors they could pass through to break line of sight. There were more of these desks they could use for cover, but which way would be the best way to remain hidden? She had _no idea _where Marie was going to go or look when she was done with Kenny, and thus nothing to base any pathing decision on.

She could process information for days, but this was a situation with _zero _information.

Her nose was beginning to itch again. She quickly buried her face in her knees, pinching the bridge and holding her breath.

"_Oh fuck, you're sick?" _

Ike hissed next to her as her body experienced a number of muffled explosions. Holding her breath and trying to restrain the spasms was pretty effective, but she knew not _actually _letting her body sneeze would cause the reflex to occur more often... and she was out of tissues to blow her nose with. In lieu of that, she tipped her head back once the fit was over with and she'd wiped her face on her sleeve, trying to mitigate just how much _gross _drained out onto her upper lip.

Looking up, at the underside of the desk, she found something... improbable.

There was a piece of paper, taped to the under side of the desk that she and Ike had hidden under. It didn't look like it had been there for long; in fact, the sheet of paper was bright white and lacked any sign of age... and it had a sort of map drawn on it in what looked to be black sharpie marker. Nothing intensely detailed, but it had a circle in the middle with a capital 'M', and then a number of rectangular shapes around the circle. At the edge of the page was a squared off shape, hastily labeled 'cargo elevator' in a somewhat loose script that she found rather familiar.

_Kenny. This was Kenny's handwriting... _but not quite? Something was off. Kenny could write nice, but his general penmanship was sloppy. This was _like _that, but as if all his little tics had been... refined? Or maybe just made into habit?

_Older. This was the handwriting of an adult._

Ike had noticed her craning neck by now; that she wasn't simply tipping her head back but actively shifting her body to continue looking up at the page taped above their heads, out of view from anyone who _wasn't _exactly where they were. There was more to the simple map than the local geography- a purple line had been drawn from the side of the circle with the 'M' in the middle of it- Wendy quickly assumed that was the _machine. _The purple line started at what she'd call the rear of the machine, closest to the cargo elevator, and circled around it before suddenly making a straight line to the squares arranged around the circle- _the desks._

With the cargo elevator notated as a landmark, she realized the line went to the desk she and Ike were currently tucked beneath. The purple line was _them- _the path she'd taken once Marie had arrived, and where she and Ike had ended up to find this page.

"... oh my _God _it's a loop."

"_What?"_

Wendy didn't answer Ike's confusion at her gaping realization; she still had more of this map to understand. The purple line didn't stop at their hiding place. There was a circle drawn into it beneath the desk; a suggestion of a stopping point before it moved on. From there, it outlined a path through the other rectangles. First it crossed the aisle, to the right side of the path cleared from Containment, and had another circle drawn- this one with a number '1' in it. Then further to the right and back a few rows before another circle, labeled '2'. Then even further to the right, and on the outer-most edge of the desks, labeled '3'. Finally, a straight line pointing off the edge of the page with an arrow, labeled '4 – Utility B'

"... Utility B is a door over there." Ike muttered, reading the map along with her at this point. "So... what? Someone _knew _we were gonna be here and need a path out?"

"Or remembered." Wendy whispered back, reaching up to take the page from beneath the desk, carefully and quietly releasing the tape at the corners of the page. Pulling it down, she incidentally held it against the light rigs on the uppermost floor for a split second... and realized there was more writing on the back.

It was the numbers, arranged as a list, each associated with a word.

_1 – Garage  
2 - Rescue  
3 - Anchors  
4 – Existence_

She blinked a few times, and then suddenly found herself refocusing on the sounds from the experimentation platform.

_Kenny and Marie were still talking- the words were signals on when to move._ The numbers weren't just _steps _on a linear path- they were _timings!_

"... _get ready." _She told Ike quietly.

"I was here before, y'know." Kenny was practically boasting at this point. Maybe he was trying to throw Marie off her game to slow her down... or maybe he had accepted death and stopped giving a fuck. It didn't matter. Wendy was less listening to the _content _of the conversation as much as she was listening for key words. "When you brought the machine here from the garage."

_Garage- "Go!" _Wendy hissed at Ike, pushing him along for them to quickly cross the aisle of desks to the one on the right side of the cleared lane. The younger boy didn't argue with her, ducking low and moving quickly. As they crossed, she stole a glance upwards to the machine.

Marie's back was turned to them, and the woman appeared to be focused entirely on Kenny, maybe with a touch of shock. She was on her knees, securing him to the metal chair atop the device with straps made out of some kind of... black mesh. Carbon fiber? Maybe...

No time to process. A second later, she and Ike were ducked below the first desk on their path, and listening for the next word. She'd already committed the keywords to memory, and actually handed the page to him to navigate and get them to their next hiding place accurately. He took it without a sound.

"You set the fire." Marie murmured. "And Eric- you took him. Where did he end up?"

"We took him home." Kenny responded. "He's probably still locked in the basement, if you care to go _rescue _him."

Marie scoffed. "_Rescue _him? There'll be no need for that when it's over. I choose him as my assistant to _punish _him. I trusted him, and he betrayed me- if he were still here, I would have _shot him _once the experiment was underway."

Ike pulled her this time, moving with certainty as they zig-zagged between desks before arriving at the designated place for their next stop. She didn't dare raise her head above level to look, but she had to assume their movements were synchronized with Marie looking away, or being otherwise too distracted to notice their movement being different than the dozens of drones in the room, going about their jobs. The further away they got, the less worrisome the noise of their steps were- just a little more, and they'd be home free.

Though... the page neglected to say _why _they were heading for a utility room. She had to assume there was something of use there, even if that use was a secure hiding spot until Marie was gone.

"_Shot him? _Wouldn't that cause problems? The timeline..."

Marie actually let out a faint laugh. "You _really _don't understand it, do you? My timeline, Haley's timeline, our _histories _are about to become utterly irrelevant- I'm going to cut Alyssa free from us, and our mistakes. I don't expect _you _to understand the temporal mechanics at work, but that's alright... you don't have to."

_Alyssa? … does she mean **Dee?**_

"I understand you and the Doc are anchors."

Another path followed- this time all the way to the back row of the desks and then around to the last one before another, narrow aisle was cleared from the sides of the machine. The two walkways created a sort of _cross-hairs _that the machine was in the middle of, Wendy noticed... and, tucked beneath their third-step desk, they were simply waiting for the last word on the list, and straining to hear it across the distance they'd gained from Marie and Kenny.

"... _always _just a step or two ahead of the curve, aren't you? You're full of surprises, Kenny- I underestimated you in this timeline. In mine, you and I never really became friends. At first because I was uninterested in you, and later because you were wary of me. Haley, too, kept her distance as a child when she ended up in South Park. Closer than me, but still... distant. You're more important to Alyssa. She's foolish enough to _trust _you."

"... who the fuck is Alyssa?" Ike questioned.

"_Shh!" _Wendy hissed.

"... I've been around a long time, Kenny, and you know what I've learned? Anchors are an _aberration- _they weren't part of how things were _supposed _to function. Time travel isn't something humans are _supposed _to do, _we're not made for it. _It's a mutation, like the cancers that spawn from radiation exposure- a natural consequence of so many temporal jumps, not because it's _the way of the universe _or any of that fatalistic nonsense, but because we're _sick... and we break things wherever and whenever we go. _We can no longer _flow with the universe, _so the universe _flows around us... _and if we stress it too far? _Things fail. _Time _fails. _Reality _fails. _Existence _fails." _

Existence. _That _was their last word, and the stairs were right in front of them to head up to the middle floor. Beyond that, a door for Utility B... but Marie was still talking.

"I came here to stop Alyssa from becoming one of us before it's too late. It's why I went after her when she was so young- _if she never becomes an anchor, she'll shift with her own universe. _And then, when I cut away _everything _that tethers her to my mistakes, to my failures? _She'll float free."_

They'd made it to the door. Ike had pushed it open, half-way through, but Wendy had hesitated. She hadn't originally been paying attention to the conversation itself, but now she was too invested to know what exactly Marie was saying.

_Was she saying she planned to kill herself once this was over? _

"... and you think that'll work?" Kenny asked.

"_It has to." _

"_Wendy!" _Ike was pulling on her, desperate for her to cross the threshold. She'd looked back, at the platform atop the machine, and could see Kenny with Marie. It was hard to read expressions at this distance, but Marie seemed... _pained._

_Remorseful._

She gave into Ike's pulling, passing through the door.

"Kyle says you're the _smart _one, what the _fuck _was that?!"

Safely on the other side of the door, with it closed and blocking both sight and sound, Ike quickly rounded on her.

"You'll _excuse _me for listening when they're talking about _frying two of my friends out there!" _Wendy snapped back in short order, barely processing the room they'd stepped into. She was aware it was pretty small, no larger than her bedroom at home, with a number of exposed pipes, valves, conduits, and otherwise running through the space along the walls.

"_The whole town has been brainwashed!" _Ike threw back at her. "I haven't seen my brother or my parents since this morning! I don't know if _anyone _I care about is safe- do you see _me _freezing up like a _fuckin' deer in the headlights? _What kind of _bitch ass genius _are you supposed to be if you can't keep your shit together?!"

"Now, now... that's hardly a way to speak to a lady, Ike."

They both froze. Their argument, born of tension and confusion, was put on hold when a third voice in the room made itself known.

Wendy had no idea how she'd missed him. In a glance, she'd somehow failed to see that there was another person in the room. _An adult, _no less.

An adult in a disturbingly familiar costume.

"_Oh... my God." _She murmured.

"_What...? _No, _no fuckin' way..." _Ike echoed.

The figure stood in the corner of the room, somehow blended into a series of pipes. Beneath the single light in the ceiling, his face was shadowed by a hood and left them with only the dim impression of a faint smirk. He was of mildly above-average height, and thin as a rail, dressed in muted lavender and accented in gray-green.

"I see you two got my note." He said to them. "Are you ready for the next step?"

"Wait, _wait, **wait- **_what are you _doing _here?" Wendy gaped, taking a step forward. It couldn't be, and yet she was staring right at him.

They'd just left Kenny behind, strapped into what was very possibly his doom... and here before them stood Mysterion himself- all grown up and very much _not dead._

"Securing a loop." He informed her. "Just like the others- performing remembered tasks, placing remembered items... and making remembered changes."

His hands appeared from behind his back; a motion that made her realize that his cowl no longer included a long cape. Held within them were a pair of little pocket notebooks, already turned to pages filled with values. Both were thrust out, insistent on being taken quickly. Ike reached out for his without objection, and Wendy followed suit with only a faint stumble of hesitation.

"There's no time to explain. Marie will conduct the test faster than she should. Wendy, your notebook is for terminal thirteen, just outside this door and to the left. Ike, yours is to the right and three monitors down; number sixteen. Passwords at the top of the page; you'll be adjusting the machine's operation cycle in real time. Don't worry about the other workers; their passwords were altered, and they're locked out of the system. Marie didn't have time to check all the gathering areas before things got started."

"... you changed our info sheets." Ike muttered. "Wait- the things I was checking- those were crossed out and changed, too-!"

"The panel needed to be open." Mysterion confirmed. "Everything needs to be just so. If the experiment isn't modified properly, both me and my partner are going to die, and this loop will collapse. Possibly this entire chain of existence. Wait to a count of thirty after Marie announces the test, and then you'll be safe to leave."

_Jesus, no fucking pressure._

"When is she going to announce the test?" Ike quested, asking what seemed the most relevant question in the sea of anything else he could have asked about _what the fucking fuck was going on._

Outside their door, the PA system squawked.

"_All work crews, prepare test run protocols. All work crews, prepare test run protocols. Clear danger areas, report to comms channel zero-one when secure." _

"Start counting." Was his response, taking a step back. It was only at that point that Wendy realized there was another way out of the room- a hatch in the ceiling that he had just centered himself beneath.

"Wait- _where are you going?!" _She demanded. "Can't you help us more than this?"

"We are." He responded simply. _"Someone_ has to break the dam."

In an instant, he disappeared upwards, using pipes as easily as one did a ladder.

"... Ike, you got the count?"

"_Twenty-two." _He responded. "Going down."

She nodded shortly, picking up that count-down with him while turning back towards the door, notebook in hand.

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

And here I thought this story would end up closer to 'regular' length... instead, here we are at _fuckin' chapter twenty._

Ah well, it's the finale and the last one was a lil short. Guess it all works out.

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	21. Failure

**::End Of The Line – Failure::**

Kenny had a front-row seat as the lab exploded into activity. Drones who had simply been roaming here and there, carrying out repairs, transporting materials, and all other manner of maintenance activities suddenly snapped from their generalized work to more specific tasks. In less than a minute after Marie's announcement, one she conducted via a hand-held link-up to the PA system she'd been carrying in her long coat, the main lab _flooded _with people as every desk around the machine soon had a person standing over it and monitoring the machines atop them. The computer banks, ringing the room, soon had at least a person to every terminal, and frequently clusters of three or four. There was activity on the upper-most floor, too, although he could only _hear _that. The bright lights made it impossible to see what was going on above them, but by the sound of doors swinging and steps ringing on the metal catwalks, he got the sense that everyone who _wasn't _directly involved in monitoring or running the experiment was clearing out to the top layer of the complex.

Possibly in preparation for evac if something went catastrophically wrong.

Marie herself withdrew from the experimentation platform once she'd secured him to it. His body had been strapped down to the chair with straps made out of some kind of black mesh that had no stretch or give, and his hands? … fitted over the shadows that blemished the silver ball in front of him, and also strapped into place, anchored from both above and below by a system that crisscrossed over the ball and made any way he might have tried to pull only close the loops tighter around his wrists with slip knots.

When he wasn't looking around at the gathering mass of humanity, he was looking forward at that ball, and the distorted reflection of his face in it.

Not for the first time, he felt like he could sense those who had come before him, and their despair as they'd done the same.

Given time and maybe the help of a friend, he might have figured out how to get himself out of this... but he didn't see any friends. Glancing about, he sighted no one he knew coming to help him, and Marie had stalked off elsewhere; probably to some kind of control booth to get this party started once all her work crews answered with the all-clear.

Beneath him, he became aware of a subtle vibration of the machine. It had been there the whole time, not so much rattling his bones as _resonating _with them. Kinda like feeling the bass kick of a sub-woofer in his chest, but so faintly it was near _ticklish. _It was an uncomfortable sensation, and worse?

It was getting _stronger._

He could hear the hum of power through the machine as the frequency rose from it's almost too-low-to-hear hum and into a more audible range, and the subtle vibration of electrical current as well as the mechanism within became more obvious and pronounced. Hair on his body stood up in response, and something in him felt... shifted. Like it was sitting wrong. Like there was something, core to his person, that had been nudged off-center by the mechanism below him- something he'd never been aware of before, never felt, never identified, without shape or understanding, that now made him gasp around it as it was out-of-place and the rest of his body rebelled against it being so.

He didn't believe it when Marie suggested this machine could make him mortal. He figured she was lying, or speaking in half-truths.

Now it felt like this strange resonance had taken hold of him in some ineffable way, and he wasn't quite so sure.

He looked around again; less to get his bearings on what was happening and more like the desperate glances of an animal that was looking for an escape route. He pulled at his hands, despite knowing full well that pulling would only pull the straps tighter. There wasn't so much movement, now; everyone had settled into place. The machines were manned, and there was a total of ten people who had gathered close to the machine itself, looking to be standing at the ready. Once in a while, someone at the monitoring desks called out a letter and a number, and one of those near by him hurried to adjust some dial on the machine itself, fine-tuning something as feedback was reported to the army of outdated computing devices.

_Up, _around the rim of the room, to the computer banks. _Wendy- where did Wendy go?_

He couldn't see her. He didn't know which way she went while Marie was strapping him in. Was she behind him? He yanked and craned his head, but failed to find her as a real panic began to set in- the sort that disoriented and confused him.

He was scared. Not of pain, not of lost time or of being forgotten, or even for the people he still needed to help.

For the first time in a _very _long time, Kenny was afraid for himself. Afraid that whenever this thing powered the whole way up... that would be it. _Game over, no re-spawn, go talk to God or Satan for the next couple eons. Or Cthulhu. _

"_Test run is go. Repeat, test run is go. Begin power-up sequence."_

Marie's voice, over the PA again.

_This is the way it has to be. This is where my gut led me. _

Small comforts as the countdown began.

"_Begin cycle in ten... nine..." _

* * *

Dee had hefted herself through the opening she made when she heard the announcement over the PA. Dimly, she felt like there might have been another one before that- but she'd been so focused on getting through the window that it hadn't even registered with her.

Now she was through that window, and finding her way along the halls of this little prison area she'd been put into, and the announcement made her tense.

"_Test run is go. Repeat, test run is go. Begin power-up sequence."_

_Test run? Test run on **who?**_

… _don't tell me..._

It was a paranoid notent, but it got her moving faster. There was no time to inspect the doors for other cells, and wonder who else might have been housed down here in the past. No, she was past identical doors for identical cells, all arranged along a single hallway. She took a sharp right, one that registered another long hallway that had a T intersection in the middle. Against the wall of said T intersection was some kind of hatch with a ladder running through the space, but that wasn't where she needed to go right now.

She wasn't sure how she knew that, but she knew it. The ladder, the hatch, those were vertical moves, either _up _or _down- _if she was in a place for test subjects, ladders were not good transit routes. At the T intersection, she looked both ways. Forward from where she came was another hallway with more cell doors. Turning to the right again? A hallway, a set of double-doors, another hallway lined with lockers, and then another set of double doors... like some kind of employee zone for workers to leave behind anything a prisoner might be able to _use._

_That _was the way to go.

"_Ten... nine..." _

Through one set of double doors, past the lockers. The thing in her ass didn't hurt anymore- no, she was too high on adrenaline for anything to hurt. Impacts with the doors barely passed her brain. She was looking forward, _out, _as her knees picked up higher and her feet fell into the rhythm of a jog. The next set of doors were shoved aside, and she was confronted with a truly _massive _room, a multitude of desks manned by dozens of people, an upraised rim of computer power with more people... _and the machine._

It was her first time seeing it bare, without a tarp over the top of it. It barely registered as anything besides a sort of circular pyramid with a flat top, constructed in steps, with a chair and a ball on the platform.

_Kenny was in the chair._

"_Eight... seven... six..." _

There was a humming running through the room. Processing was something she didn't bother with. _Instinct _refused to let her stop moving. Once again, she was _running- _flat out, head down, feet slamming against the metal floor _running like tomorrow wasn't a thing._

Only this time, she wasn't running _away._

"_Five... four... three..." _

The desks. She was whipping by them, and the people behind them. Did they reach out to try and stop her? They might have, she didn't know. She didn't really see them, but she might have felt a stray hand slap her arm or shoulder as she passed through the open lane between the work stations at break-neck speed, digging in deeper and grunting out exhales between sharp inhales.

There was no pacing here, nor consideration towards _distance- _this was a _balls to the wall short-distance sprint. _

She was at the bottom of the pyramid. She was looking up at Kenny. She was taking the steps, unaware of how many at a time, simply _flying _up them with feet that did not currently know how to stumble.

He looked at her with wide eyes. The Mysterion stuff was gone. It was just him... and he was _scared._

"_Two..." _

"_Lyssie..? No-!" _

_The coin. The copper coin._

"_One." _

* * *

Marie hadn't looked until she reached the end of the countdown.

The control booth for the experiment was, naturally, the most well-protected section of the entire lab; accessed not by stairs or any regular methods, but through the emergency escape ladder that ran through the entire complex from top to bottom... and only if one knew _exactly _how to open it. It was both a panic room and a control room, most easily entered by opening the escape hatch in the middle of the Containment section and climbing upwards.

There was no window facing into the lab; windows could be broken. Her contact with the room was cameras, most of which had suffered damage, but she still had a one good view of the experimentation platform.

She'd looked away from it while giving the count-down, watching a light panel of indicators for power flow, searching for failures that would require the test run to be aborted.

She was rushing things. She knew she was.

_She just wanted this to be over._

She knew there would be screaming from the chamber- the audio feed wasn't even necessary to hear it. It came through the wall, through metal concrete, and dirt. It didn't matter _who _was strapped in.

They always screamed.

She had screamed, when it had been her.

… it wasn't just one. She didn't hear the isolated scream of a young boy, _she heard two people screaming._

She looked back at her feed.

_No._

_No, no, no, no, no-_

There was a button in her booth, one that was supposed to cut all power. An emergency shut-down, and she quite literally punched it only to have _nothing _happen.

She might have called out an abort over the PA, but she doubted any of them would get close. _Not with the non-peril clause- _no one in their right mind would step into _that. _She wouldn't waste time trying to make them. She was out of the booth, sliding down the ladder, and _sprinting _out of containment as fast as her feet would carry her. Past both sets of doors, past the lockers, blowing across the open lane and between the desks to follow the path her younger self had taken.

_She'd gotten out, how had she gotten out? _

Didn't matter; what mattered was she was up on the platform.

_Alyssa was on the platform._

The machine was at full power. The mechanism within it was spun up, and the current channeled through it had begun to arc and spark through the air around the rim of the platform on top. Blue-white sparks, reaching upwards and inwards, towards the silver ball atop the entire mechanism.

Only now _someone was in the way, _standing rather than sitting, with both hands on the ball like she'd been trying to get the test subject free.

_Trying to get Kenny free._

The sparks were reaching higher and higher. High above the machine, brand new bulbs in the light rigging burst, showering glass down and causing the rest to flicker. A _wave _ran through the people on the work floor as things looked decidedly less and less safe.

The attendants to the machine itself were the first to _run, _screaming out their first words in hours since she'd taken control of them. They fled, confused and afraid, as she continued forward.

There was a manual shut-down on the machine itself. Near the bottom, to the side, next to a panel that shouldn't have been open but didn't much matter right now. Not while she was up there, not while _Little Lyssie _was very possibly _dying _as the lightening produced by the experiment began to concentrate at a single point. Not on the ball, arcing towards all parts of its surface- no, no, all to one point, a single point.

A _conductive _point.

_Oh no, **no-**_

Marie reached the machine, arrived on her knees to thrust her hand into the open panel, and grab hard at a switch that was quite literally inside the mechanism and behind the wires.

Her arm burned, but her knuckles closed, and she _yanked._

She screamed now, too.

* * *

After heating and mutilation with a drill bit, Stan had finally gotten the hatch beneath the machine open. It had taken longer than he planned- movies really _did _make melting through a lock look way easier than it actually was. At his first attempt, he realized he had actually _ruined _the lock and been forced to turn his attention to the hinges of the hatch instead, exploiting them as a weak point and eventually able to yank the whole metal door off of the ceiling after _thoroughly _breaking every connection point it had to the structure around it.

The announcement for the test run had been made by then. Everyone around him had cleared out of the utility tunnels- he had to guess this area was one of those _danger zones _Marie had mentioned on the PA. He didn't care- Kenny had given him a job to do, and he was _doing it. _

The door came off nearly in exact timing with the count-down. Around him, he could feel the distinct _hum _in the air of electrical current; the sort of hum someone could hear when near a major transformer for a city block, multiplied by a hundred times or so in volume. It was something that made him _more _and _more _aware of the four major cables near him, that fed up into the machine above him, each of which seemed to vibrate as the test run above him got underway.

He tried not to panic. It was just a test run, right? This would be the perfect time to break something- Marie would think the machine wasn't ready, and delay things even more trying to troubleshoot.

The hatch beneath the machine appeared to be protecting some kind of fuse box; Stan was confronted with a number of switches, some tiny ones like the sort one would find in their home fuse box, others being as wide as his hand with a grip as thick as a broom handle. All were labeled, but not with anything useful- just alpha-numeric designations with rows labeled A, B, C, D, and columns going by numbers down the line.

The humming got louder. The tunnels were vibrating in resonance with the machine above him. _Not panicking _was becoming a more difficult proposition. He heard something... _sparking _above him- the distant _snap _and _snicker _of electrical current making jumps through the air.

He also heard someone _scream- _or- no, _two people._

_Oh god, she put someone __**in **__it for the test run?!_

_That _killed any hesitation he was holding onto. He reached up over his head, and started flipping switches- but the old fuckers wouldn't easily budge. He couldn't just drag a clawed hand down the whole panel and take down a whole row in a single fell swoop; he had to grasp each one and force it into the open or 'off' position against age and rust, dropping all of his equipment to use both hands.

It didn't seem to do anything. The ambient hum of power around him, coming from every direction in these tunnels, had grown into a _roar. _

Wide eyes dashed over the box, and decided bigger was better. The largest switch was the one that needed to be pulled- one that had a safety hook over the top of it that needed to be eased back with one hand before the other could even grasp it properly, and yanked down with his entire body weight before it finally gave an _inch _with a ear-splitting squeal.

There was a third voice above him. Someone else was screaming. They were in just as much pain. _Something was wrong. _

_Another set of hands clasped over his. _

"On three." A voice said behind him. The hands were bigger than his- an adult's, but... the voice seemed familiar? Feminine, confident.

He tried to glance back, but they were right behind him- too close.

"_One, two, three!" _

The switch gave, snapping past the resistance and settling into its 'off' position.

The tunnels went quiet.

* * *

She'd gotten the copper coin into her hand at the last possible moment, before the first arc of electricity honed in on it and hit her.

Her hand had slapped onto the other side of the ball. Atop another hand. Kenny's hand.

The light had been blinding, but now her vision was dark. The noise had been deafening, horrific in her ears, but everything was quiet now.

_Horribly so._

She'd been driven to her knees on the platform. She didn't know when it happened, or how. Her voice was raw, and it took several seconds before she remembered she could _breathe._

When she exhaled, she sobbed.

She wished it hurt. She wished everything hurt, but she wasn't sure of any sensation. She wasn't sure if she was alive. She was pretty sure that if she was, she should not have been.

Her hands were still on the silver ball, clutching atop Kenny's hands.

_Kenny._

Her body flopped more than it moved. A hard impact with her elbow occurred as she _fell _onto the platform, dragging herself over to the silver chair and hefting herself upwards after the fact. She had no sense of her knees or feet, but her fingers? They could still claw, still pull, still yank her along for the ride as she tried to understand what had happened, and what the aftermath was.

Looking up, she understood his shape in her dim vision.

He was slumped, and quiet.

"... _Kenny?"_

She shook him by her grasp on his leg; the handhold she'd used to drag herself upwards.

He didn't respond. Her vision was getting dimmer. She felt like some was... _leaking somewhere_, but couldn't identify where.

"_No... no, Kenny, **please..." **_

She wasn't holding herself up anymore. She'd flopped over again, but one hand of fingers was still pathetically clutched about his pant-leg.

She was still trying to shake him awake.

_No, please no..._

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

IDK WHAT TO PUT HERE LETS KEEP GOING

_ONWARDS!_

_**-Buttlord**_


	22. Aftermath

**::End Of The Line – Aftermath::**

Wendy felt certain that she'd done things exactly as directed.

She and Ike had left the utility room after their thirty-second countdown, and joined the crowd of drones who had responded to Marie's call to set up the experiment. She'd gone straight to her directed terminal, used the password she was given, and followed the directions printed on the little notebook Mysterion had handed her.

It had taken every ounce of willpower she had to keep working, even when the machine reached full power, even when she heard the screaming.

Even when it was more than one person screaming. She didn't even know exactly what she was _doing, _all she knew was what she'd been told, and that she hadn't reached the end of the list by the time it all started.

When she did reach the end of the list of inputs, everything on the lab level went dark. It was sudden, like someone had pulled the plug. All at once, the machine went quiet, and the sound of arcing electricity died. Her terminal, too, snapped and fizzled as the tube monitor lost power and the screen went dark.

Stepping away, she felt like she was in shock. She didn't know what had happened, and she was _afraid _to look.

Swallowing hard, she pivoted on her heel, turned around, and peered back into the main space of the lab.

Several lights above the platform had exploded, showering the area below with glass. Some of the drones had snapped out of Marie's control and taken cover below work benches, once again people with free will who were using it to cower.

Atop the platform, she saw a pair of slumped figures. One was the one she expected; Kenny, still strapped in, his head hung and all the tension having gone out of his body.

The other was _Dee._

"Oh _shit-" _

A mad sprint was made down to the lab floor, past confused people who were trying to figure out what the hell was going on after being passengers in their own bodies for several hours. Others, further away from the machine, were still in their _drone _state, simply staring on in confusion. Wendy had no care about either- she was shoving people out of the way, rushing into get to her partners, her _team, her __**friends-**_

Arrival brought on a sudden halt. She'd scaled the side of the machine, made it to the top, and felt her stomach drop as neither of her friends appeared to be awake or moving.

"_No, no, no- c'mon, don't you dare, you guys are too stubborn for this..." _

Wendy reached in to check Kenny first, forcing two fingers beneath his chin. His head bobbed freely as she grasped for a pulse.

Not finding one made her gasp, holding back a sob.

_I did it right, I followed directions, he said they'd only die if we didn't do it right-_

Before she could reach down to check Dee, a sound cut through the complex. It was loud, and horrible, but it wasn't a priming noise. No, it sounded more like...

_An alarm._

Loud, blaring, the sort of alarm that would go off at school during a fire, if a touch more automated. After three, second-long cries of the thing, a recorded voice took over the PA system that most certainly _not _Marie.

"_General evacuation, this is not a drill. General evacuation, this is not a drill." _

Somewhere below them, something... _rumbled,_ and then squealed. Not in a mechanical sense, like some new machine had come to life in the bowls of the facility. No, it sounded more like... metal sheeting tearing apart under the weight of moving rocks.

The dam was coming down- the facility was flooding.

Drones responded to the general evacuation order. It was strange to look up and see it happen, but the masses of people still under control began to move all at once and still do so in a surprisingly orderly manner. It was the others, who had gotten free by some function, that ran through everyone else at break-neck speed and cause others to stumble with their panic... still, they didn't make up an excessive mass, so hopefully they wouldn't cause much trouble.

They also wouldn't be much help; Dee was _unconscious; _she wouldn't be easy to move.

Least, Wendy hoped she was unconscious. She hadn't yet worked up the courage to check her pulse. Not after she felt Kenny's and found him without that vital rhythm.

"Wendy!"

A voice shouting for her from the far end of the room- she was confused at first, until she finally sighted Stan, having emerged from the stairwell near Containment just ahead of the wave of people who were heading _for _that stairwell to get the hell out of here. He sighted that, and sprinted out of the way and along the rim of the room some ways before coming down around the crowd, pumping his arms and digging in to get over her as fast as he could manage it while the alarms continued to blare.

"_Wendy! It was amazing-_ I was down there, and there was a switch, and-_\- and it was YOU!" _

He was babbling as he approached the machine, tripping over himself and stopping just short of climbing up it. It appeared he sensed at that point that something, besides the evacuation alarm, was... _wrong._

"... are they...?"

"I mean... I'm not doctor, but it _looks _pretty bad. Probably a heart attack brought on by the electrical shock. I'd say he's a lost cause."

Wendy blinked. As the din of people shuffling out of the main lab went from its loudest to getting steadily quieter as people filed up the stairs, there was another clear voice in the room... and it wasn't Stan or Ike.

No, it was a voice she'd not heard very long ago at all.

"The other one could probably use a hospital. Electrical shock causes muscle contractions, and they've got a foreign object up their ass that might have caused a few lacerations... nothing a good surgeon can't fix, _but... _time is of the essence and all that."

Another voice. Another adult- a woman, who sounded... _oddly conversational _considering things.

"Who the _fuck...?" _Stan was having to come around the machine, as the voices were coming from a spot just before the cargo elevator, and solidly on the other side from him. Wendy, from the top of the machine, was able to turn her head and look down... and from elsewhere, probably still on the rim of the lab, she could hear Ike exclaiming with only the most _colorful _language.

"... _you're okay?" _Wendy asked in shock when she addressed them, disbelieving.

It couldn't be right. She'd just felt Kenny's pulse. The guy was dead as a door-nail.

"Immortality is a bitch, _Callgirl."_ Mysterion smirked at her from beneath his hood, standing next to his partner. "Lucky for me, you and Ike modified the machine so it didn't take our abilities... and _Stan _killed the breaker just in time after the manual shut-down failed."

Her head was swimming. Just how much of the crew was here?

Wait, what had Stan just said, about someone helping him with a switch?

A tremor rocked the room. Light rigs above them shook, and more loose glass fell down from above. The sounds from below, of squealing metal and shifting earth, came again... and they were decidedly _louder _this time. _Closer._

They also came with another key sound; _rushing water._

"Express ticket out of this hellhole, any takers?" Buttlord called out, departing from Mysterion's side and approaching the side of the machine where Wendy had original found Ike while he'd still been a drone. Leaning out a little to watch her, to see this adult version of Dee still wearing the mask and the coat after crossing into adulthood, Wendy also found another member of the drama that had played out here.

Marie, collapsed next to the machine, her arm thrust into the open panel Ike had been inspecting when she'd found him.

The sleeve of her tan jacket was burnt, and faint smoke was rising. Buttlord picked the woman up like a sack of potatoes, and made motions with a purple glove for everyone to follow her as she scaled up to the top of the machine.

"Mysterion, would you do the honors?" She asked him on the way up.

"On it." He responded shortly, arriving first at the platform and going straight to the silver ball atop the plinth. Wendy watched as his gloved hands removed the restraints that had kept Kenny's palms affixed to the ball, the boy's corpse instantly falling lax. He didn't stop there, however, reaching beneath the silver ball to knock it in a few key places until it came free of the plinth with a hard _clack. _

"What are you guys doing?" Wendy quested as Stan climbed up the platform, wearing a bewildered look that didn't even know which question to ask first. Ike was following after him, puffing from having to run. "You're... what, _fart-warping us out of here? _Without the rest of your team?"

"Last member of our team knows how to handle herself." Mysterion responded with a snicker. "And how to get herself home... besides, we have to follow the rules."

"_Rules?" _Stan asked as Buttlord crouched down next to Wendy, putting a hand on her collapsed child-self. "What _rules?" _

"... never come in contact with your past self if you can help it." Buttlord muttered faintly.

"Why not?" Ike asked, somewhat dumbly.

Mysterion let out a bitter laugh. "... cause _this kind of shit _is always what it comes to."

A moment later, the group disappeared in a cloud of noxious gas.

* * *

Dee was awake.

Dimly awake, but awake. She wasn't entirely certain where she was, at first. Eyes squinted tightly, a tight frown over her face as she tried to get herself into the moment and understand where exactly she was.

Better question, _where had she been?_

Asking that brought on flashes, images of frantic horror. The electricity, the sound, the lights, _Kenny-_

_**Kenny-**_

"Sh-_shh-shh- fellas_, I think Dee's waking up..."

_Who was that? Was that...?_

She groaned a little, her head rolling to one side, lids fluttering as blurry colors began to organize themselves into shapes. Her brain hadn't made full contact with her body, but she was beginning to suspect that was a good thing. There was a smell in her nose, of sterile plastic and clean cotton sheets.

_The hospital. She was in a hospital bed. _She recognized the blue covers and the white curtain, and the grid pattern on the ceiling.

Lowering her gaze, and blinking quite a bit more... she recognized that there were people in her room. Four people, to be exact.

"Dee! _Oh my goodness, buddy, it's been **days!" **_

Butters couldn't contain himself, and Dee couldn't master herself to defend her bubble. It didn't matter, once she got over the shock the hug was more than permitted and welcome. She managed to master one hand atop his back, patting him weakly.

It was her right hand, she realized. It was all bandaged up, from wrist to fingers, made into a great big ball from which her fingertips protruded like swollen and darkly shaded sausages.

Looking up, she could identify the three others now. Kyle, Stan, and Eric. Stan was the next closest to the bed, and looked the second happiest to see her awake... though, to be fair, Butters set a high bar when it came to enthusiasm. Kyle smiled and nodded when eye contact was made, but was a step back with Eric.

Eric had his arms over his chest. He'd looked over at her, but promptly looked back away to _pout. _

_Where's Kenny?_

There was an image of him in her memory, strapped into a silver chair, slumped over, quiet, _still-_

_No- no, if I remember... _

She looked out at her friends, desperate.

Stan seemed to pick up on the look as Butters continued to hug her around the middle, his body half-bent onto the hospital bed.

"O-oh, uh... Kenny?"

She nodded, vigorously.

"What, aren't any of _us _good enough for you, _Douchebag?!" _Eric snapped. "You could have _told us, _y'know- you didn't have to fucking play games and-"

"Eric!" Kyle snapped. "Back off. Let 'em get their bearings."

Dee blinked, confused, as Butters withdrew. When he looked at her, he appeared very _shy _all of a sudden... maybe even a little ashamed.

_What the ever-living fuck is going on with you fuckers?_

"A bunch of us from the future came to help with what happened." Stan explained, also looking more than a little cagey. "Like as... _legit heroes. _Mysterion, Callgirl, and... _Buttlord. _They were all grown up, and you... I mean, future you... and Wendy told me about Marie, and Kartwright, and..."

… _oh boy._

"You've been a girl, this whole time." Kyle stated.

"Her name's _Alyssa." _Cartman suddenly boasted, grinning. "After we all got caught up in that shit from your bitch-ass old lady version, Marie, that whole _don't listen to anything Dee tells you _bit got rid of all the crap you forced on me before, so I can tell anyone I please! _Eat THAT, Douchebag!" _

She winced back, shoulders shrugging high, mouth tightening as she grew more and more uncomfortable.

"They... they made me tell 'em the truth." Butters admitted, shamefully. "That I knew. I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize Butters, bitch fuckin' lied to you." Cartman overruled. "Then again, _that's all girls are fuckin' good for." _

"_Oh come off it, Eric!" _Kyle snapped. "You can at least give her a chance to explain."

"How? _She never fucking talks, and if she does, she'll scramble our fucking brains! _Should sneak into her house and sew her mouth shut in her goddamn sleep."

_Bickering. _More bickering- that was what she needed to wake up to. Getting outed by time-traveling bullshit, and all the usual arguments. She felt her jaw clench. She would have hit Eric, but he was beyond her range and energy level. The more she became aware of her body, the more she became aware that _everything fucking hurt._

Her ass, most of all.

She looked away from the others, finding her desire to speak at an all-time low. She didn't want to explain. She didn't want to talk. The _only _thing she wanted was something she suspected she couldn't have.

_She wanted to see Kenny._

Someone pressed something into her left hand. The one that wasn't bandaged up to high hell. Her first instinct was to take that object and whip it at Eric's head, but she decided to at least _look _before she started throwing things.

It was a phone, open to a _text to speech _app. Looking up, she saw it was Stan who had given it to her, staring at her with earnest eyes.

She looked down, and then nodded a little, typing up a message while Kyle and Eric were _still _arguing in the background, and pressing the button after ensuring Stan's media volume was all the way up.

"_I told Eric my name when I moved to town. He rejected it. I got mad. I got scared. I was afraid if you guys knew, you wouldn't hang out with me. You were the first real friends I ever had offline. I didn't want to lose you guys over something stupid. I just wanted to keep my group, so I lied."_

Confessing the truth via _robo-voice _seemed to lack the kind of punctuation she always thought this moment would have... but it shut Kyle and Eric up by the first sentence. By the middle, they were all staring at her, but she couldn't bring herself to look back at them.

Things went quiet for a long while.

She typed another message, and tapped the talk button.

"_I'm sorry." _

Things were quiet for a second. Thirty seconds. Maybe a whole minute. Butters turned around towards the others.

"Well, I but you all feel like a buncha... a bunch of _real jerks _now, don'cha?"

"What.. the... _fuck _Cartman? _She told you?" _

Kyle, surprise, snapped right back into fighting with Eric.

"I was already determined on getting the new kid into the game, I wasn't gonna let her being a _chick _make things all bullshit and weird!" Eric snapped back. "And then I guess I kinda... forgot."

"You mean you went into _denial!" _Kyle rebutted. "You _delusional moron!"_

"Guys, _guys!" _Stan shouted over the top, getting between them. "... if we had known De- I mean... If we had known Alyssa was a girl, would we have _ever _let her hang out with us ever again after that game?"

"_... well, _looks like I'm the reason we have Douchebag as a friend at all, then!" Eric suddenly declared victory.

"You're also the reason the _universe nearly collapsed, fatass!" _

"_Not **me, **_some _dickwaffle _from an alternate universe who couldn't handle the responsibilities of success! I'm not gonna grow up into _that _guy- I am obviously the _superior _Eric Cartman in all the multiverse."

Dee was tapping at the phone in her lap with her good hand. Stan hadn't taken from her as of yet.

"_Anyone wanna give me the cliff notes?"_

"Oh, _shoot, _that's right, you've been out for a while!" Butters exclaimed. "Well, uh... _actually, _I might not be the best person to... I mean... U-uh... none of us really saw it all _go down..." _

"Take it easy dudes, I got this."

She experienced a shock. Another voice had joined the party, and it drug her focus to the other end of her hospital room, where the door was.

Someone else had just come in... someone wearing a bright orange parka.

_KENNY!_

She nearly yelped his name aloud, restraining the urge while sitting upright _far _before she should have been doing so unassisted. Butters cried out when she did so, slipping an arm beneath her torso and stopping her from immediately flopping back as she hissed in pain through her teeth.

"Oh, _shit dude, take it easy!" _Kyle yelped, moving in at the same time as Stan. She suddenly had a _multitude _of hands helping her sit up and scoot back, with Eric having the good sense to grab the remote for the bed and actually move the upper bit up into a more upright position for her to lay on without stressing herself.

"Heh... miss me?" Kenny snickered while arriving at the left of her bedside, opposite everyone else. He had his parka on, but unzipped, the scarf pulled down and his voice unmuffled for the time being. She noticed he was wearing the clothes she'd given him- the black T with the white rose on the chest, and the jeans.

_Maybe he wasn't as hurt as a thought. Maybe he didn't die- that would explain why I remember... fuck me, though, it sure as shit seemed like he died._

She had to quickly wipe her face, before she legit started crying in front of everyone.

More than that, however, Kenny had also arrived with something in his hands- a well-worn notebook, and a box. The notebook looked pretty normal; the sort of thing one might find at the bottom of a drawer many years after it was actually used for school work, and mostly full of doodles. The box was of unassuming white cardboard; the kind a new phone might come in, but entirely unmarked.

"Done _meeting with your future wife?" _Stan smirked.

"Done meeting with _yours." _Kenny lobbed back.

"Wait- _really?!" _Stan crowed, leaning forward. "Did she really say that?!"

"Jesus, Stan, cool it off." Eric snickered. "You wanna tie the knot that bad, you better not tell _her _that before you spend a few more years playing the field, or you'll be stuck licking the same puss your entire life."

"They didn't say anything." Kenny rebutted with a snicker. "Against the rules... but Buttlord had a few gifts for themself."

_For me?_

The notebook and box were placed in her lap. Dee ended up giving Stan's phone back to him, just so she could occupy her good hand with checking both of the items out.

"Wait, giving themselves stuff- isn't _that _against the rules?" Butters asked, head cocked.

"Not if it's what they remembered." Kenny countered. "Buttlord remembered getting this stuff from themselves after all this happened... so that's what's gotta happen to keep the loop stable."

"I... _I don't get it." _Stan frowned.

"You don't want to." Kenny assured. "It's a headache."

Dee had managed to get the box open with one hand while the guys were talking over her recovery bed, fumbling it this way and that until the lid finally lifted up. Within, she found... something odd.

It looked like a sort of black fabric choker, but not necessarily as flimsy as a piece of jewelry. In fact, the bit that might have been a pendant didn't look decorative in the slightest; just a black circle that looked more like housing for a battery than anything she might wear for _aesthetic_. The clasp for it looked less delicate, too- like it was meant to hold up to some wear and tare, rather than the usual tiny little hook and clip style one would see on a choker.

There was a short note inside the box, underneath the item. She recognized the script... _hers; _if a little less sloppy.

_Takes watch batteries, change it once a month. You can speak safely. Little bit of future tech, thank Wendy for it._

"What is it?" Kyle quested as she read the note. Shocked, she handed it up, and let him read it again- this time aloud and to the group.

"_Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?" _

Butters, again, set the bar for excitement. He quite literally _could not contain _himself, and began to zoom around what little floor space of the room was clear like a toddler who had just been told he was going to Disneyland.

"Well _shit _dude, put it on!" Stan encouraged.

_Kinda hard to do that with one hand. _She looked to Kenny, raising her eyebrows. He got her meaning pretty quickly, and reached in to help.

"Oh hey, lil indicator light on the top- it's green right now." Kenny told her as he helped her with it. "Guess it only lights up when it's... active? Must be heat sensitive."

_Battery saver for when I take it off to sleep, I bet- Wendy thinks of everything._

With it on, a hush felt over the room. Even Eric looked pretty interested in what she might have to say to them, as a group, as her first time talking since the whole _stick of truth _thing. She wasn't even sure this was right- did this thing really work? She still didn't entirely know what happened... did she _trust _this future self who had dropped off this box and notebook?

Kenny did... that was good enough.

"... _hi? _I guess...?"

The assembled group burst out laughing, sputtering over themselves.

"_Man- oh man-" _Eric gasped. "_SUUUuuuuper lame!" _

She felt her cheeks color... but chuckled along all the same.

This felt okay.

* * *

"... so _what happened?" _

It was _hours _later when Alyssa finally got to ask the question to someone who might answer it. After Eric, Kyle, and Stan had left. Butters hung out for a while, but eventually his dad came to pick him up... but Kenny? Kenny had all but decided he had nowhere else to be.

No, not after he'd woken up back at home and seen that his family was alright.

Dying in the middle of the action was a bitch, but everyone thinking he had just _disappeared _put him in an optimal position to get the story from around town. There were plenty of witnesses to what happened, though most of the accounts were... _uninformed _at best. Wild speculation had taken over the adult spheres, and it seemed the only ones who had half a clue what was going on where the kids.

"It was a loop." He responded with a faint shrug.

"I got _that." _Alyssa rolled her eyes at him. Her parents had been by since she'd woken up, but she was still in recovery after some serious surgery on her ass- she'd be in the hospital for a few more days, at least... and Chris and Kelly appeared to have accepted that he was going to hang out while _they _had to go home, sleep, and continue being adults in the capitalist rat-race. "But the whole problem was repeated shifts, right? That one universe kept morphing and producing more versions of... well, _me, _and we kept becoming anchors, and holding together the futures of what should have either been _collapsed _or _split _timelines."

"Marie was trying to de-power you _before _you became an anchor." Kenny responded. "... but she was too late. She'd been too late for a while. Back with the whole _Zombie _thing, where you came back and got Kartwright to stop the experiment, so the whole thing didn't happen? If you _weren't _an anchor, you would have shifted when the future did. Instead, Kartwright had to put you down like Old Yeller."

"_Kartwright- Marie! _Where... what happened to them? I..."

_I wanted to strangle Marie to death with her own fucking hat... and Kartwright just **disappeared **after we left the van..._

"Gone- that's what I was getting to, if you'd let me finish." He smirked.

"Oh- sorry..."

"Apparently when we all went to the facility, one way or another, we settled _our _future enough to let that loop happen. Our future selves came back to make it work, and stabilize the turbulent point... kinda like _back-stitching _when you sew. They gave us the information, items, and directions we needed to come through okay... and they were there to blow the facility- it was a _dam _for an underground river. Whole place is flooded to the very top, now."

"You went back?"

"I... had some time, while you were out." He nodded. "I..." He trailed off, distracted from his explanation to her. "... what's the last thing you remember of _me _being there?"

She blinked. The question seemed to confuse her, and then upset her. He didn't understand why; she was used to him asking that by now. It was how he got a handle on how fucked up her memory was after he'd died and she'd forgotten, so he could tell her what really happened.

"... I don't remember you leaving. I remember rushing the machine, while you were on it. I remember both of us getting shocked through the hands, cause of the copper coin I brought up, the one you gave me... and I remember you in the chair after it was over. You..."

She went quiet.

"_You weren't moving... I... I remembered, so I thought..." _

"_You remembered?" _

He gaped. No one remembered.

_No one ever remembered. _Not besides Cartman, who was... his own kettle of fish. _What the hell did she mean, she remembered?!_

She looked towards her hand; the one that wall bandaged up. The one that had been holding the copper coin.

"... _Your _future self told me that coin was gonna save a life." He remembered faintly. "... she didn't say _whose." _

That was allowed to hang for a moment. Neither of them knew what to do with it.

"Maybe it's cause we were... I mean, the machine had something to do with _powers, _maybe we were... connected for a minute?" She posited, grasping at straws. "I... I don't really wanna test if it's permanent, if I'm _always _gonna remember now... I know it hurts, I... _I heard you screaming." _

"Hey, _hey..." _He reached across, to her good hand. "Lyssie... _it's okay, we made it through okay."_

"_This time." _She agreed, pensive. "... I guess for a while, too." She relented. "At least long enough for us to come back here, as partners, and help our kid-selves do it again." She laughed faintly at that. "... _fuck me _I hate time travel." She shook her head, letting out a sigh. "Alright, _alright, _so what did they do with Kartwright and Marie? And _Eric, _what the fuck happened to that fucked up version of Eric?"

"I'm... not sure." Kenny admitted. "Wendy says they took the silver ball from the top of the machine, and she's pretty sure it's some kind of macguffin. Buttlord took that thing in one hand, had Marie over her shoulder, and made Shitty Eric touch it, and then she just... _fart-warped _out of there, but she didn't actually _go? _But she _did? _Like the cloud cleared, Marie was gone, Shitty Eric was still there, and then it was Kartwright's turn. Apparently Mysterion- I mean... apparently future-me explained to Wendy that Buttlord learned how to _side-step _to alternate universes, and was returning everyone to their timelines at the right points to split them apart _properly." _

"... and here's betting _Morgan fucking Freeman _disappeared without a goddamn trace again."

"Yep."

He watched as her head flopped back in a cloud of red curls. _"Fuck my entire life. _Where the fuck was Kartwright after we left the Van?"

"Tried to follow us, ran into future Eric on the way, got turned back to secure Shitty Eric while we were all risking our lives making a time loop work."

"_Lucky bitch, got the easy job- _wait- wait, _Future Eric?"_

"Yeah, fucker saved me from getting trampled." Kenny let out a laugh... one that got louder as he watched his girlfriend sink her body further into her pile of pillows on her hospital bed.

"Y'know, I think I mean it. _Fuck my life." _She said again. "_Fuck everything about my life- _I am _so sick of all this chaos- _you know what I want? I wanna gave a big-old movie night with all the guys, with snacks, and music, and bullshit games, and staying up too fucking late talking about bullshit and starting fights. Can I do that? Cause I could _really _go for that right now. Just... lemme recharge, for the _love of fuck." _

"Think you can convince everyone to _do _a sleepover, now that your big secret is out?" Kenny quested.

She blinked, staring at the ceiling dully for a second... before a smirk curled up on her face.

"Yeah. Pretty sure I can. _I speak dude." _

Kenny let out one of his signature giggles.

"Sounds like fun to me."

_**~Fin**_

* * *

**::The Author's Corner::**

SEASON ONE. FINI! THE TEMPORAL SHENANIGANS ARC IS OVER

… but not without leaving us some goodies to play with.

Before anyone asks, _yes, _I am planning a 'season two' of NKS- I already have several stories outlined and the main arc planned. **HOWEVER! **Now that this... _two year long _project has reached a major milestone, _I am gonna take a break and recharge my batteries. _

If you're excited about NKS, I run both a Tumblr and a Discord, both of which I have direction to in my profile here on FF, specifically devoted to the stories.

Thank you all, so much for joining me on this journey. It's been one hell of a ride to write this series, and I look forward to the new arc in season 2 being even more fun than all this timey whimey stuff.

See you all next time, friends and readers.

_**-Buttlord**_


End file.
